Legacy
by Miran Anders
Summary: COMPLETE! The return of the pirate William Bootstrap Turner.
1. Tortuga

I don't own anything about _Pirates of the Caribbean_, although I went on the ride at Disneyland the first time when I was six. This must qualify as some kind of expertise…

* * *

**LEGACY **

* * *

The town was quieting down for the night – or for the day, rather. Tortuga was a _night_ kind of town. As dawn puddled a yellowing gray on the eastern horizon, Captain Jack Sparrow set down his last cup of rum and stood. He rose smoothly, although veered a bit past vertical, righting himself like a ship's mast finding the heavens again after a high swell. As he passed another table, its occupant face down in a pool of sticky brownish liquid, he inconspicuously scooped several coins with a thief's grace, and turning a moment later tossed the largest of them to the serving girl. She caught it with a yawn.

"Will you be in port long, Jack?"

"No longer than it takes to fix the Pearl's rigging, love. I may be back tomorrow. Save me your best." He leaned toward her, tapping the keg she leaned on as his dark eyes traveled down her chest. "If you have any left."

"Ha. Always, for Captain Jack Sparrow."

Jack leered at her and walked out into the relatively fresh air. Something about his bearing straightened a bit once he was alone and away from prying eyes, and instinctively his feet wandered toward the port where the _Pearl_ was moored a short distance out from shore. Even if he wasn't expected back tonight, he'd get one more look at her before finding someplace to sleep. He stopped dead when a dark figure stepped out from behind a stand of trees.

Automatically teetering a bit as his hand casually strayed toward his sword, the pirate peered into the darkness. It was not yet light enough to make out features, but he could tell that it was a thin man, close to his size, although probably several years older. If he had to, Jack could surprise most men with his fighting abilities. His speech was slurred as he addressed the figure that still stood silently. "And _what_ can I do for you?"

"Good evening, Captain."

Jack stared for a moment, tilted his head as if listening to the man's words again. "Do I know you?"

"Come now, Captain. No games."

The pirate stood quietly. Then he straightened up, nodding. "Right you are. No games." The dim light of dawn caught glints of gold as he smiled. "I thought I might find you here. Or rather, you'd find me. I waited in the tavern."

"I know. I didn't think it was safe for me to be showing my face just yet."

Jack frowned, the dark eyes serious. "Safe enough, my friend. If you've heard the tale."

"I've heard much, but I doubt I've heard all."

Nodding, Sparrow stepped closer. "Truer words were ne'er spoken. You wouldn't believe it all. Where are you staying?"

"Off the beach."

"Not a room?"

'Like I said …"

"Right, right." The pirate frowned again, peering around as the light increased marginally. "Have you been eating? You look thin."

"Not as thin as I was. But eating's a hard habit to break."

Jack tilted his head and stared for a long time. The man seemed accustomed to this kind of behavior, because he didn't move until the captain spoke again. "Listen, I was going to make port tonight, but we can go back to the ship instead."

"I don't know how welcome I'd be there, either."

"The _Pearl_ is mine again. Besides, there've been a lot of changes since you saw her last. Changes for the better."

"That would be welcome news… but still."

"Listen. You've got to sleep sometime, right? Well so do I. The dinghy should still be at the dock. Would you turn down the hospitality of your old captain?"

The figure looked toward the slowly awakening town, and back to Jack. The light showed hints of an expression now – a scruffy beard, sad eyes, long curls that hung free and sparkled silver at his temples. A bit more world-weary, more gaunt than the captain remembered, but still undeniably familiar. It was the expression in those eyes that made Jack shake his head and smile again, thinking of someone quite a bit younger.

The man looked out to the sea, and shrugged to smile with him. They turned to walk side by side toward the shore. "I'm surprised you were looking for me. How did you know I'd be here?"

"Come now. You and I had our own code. _The broken crew meets at Tortuga_. You taught me that one early on." They chuckled quietly together. "You were the only one I really trusted back then. The rest I could have done without, although I thought I at least had their respect. I didn't think…" He grew silent, and there was a sadness in his quiet. Along with some anger.

The man stopped, and Jack stopped to face him. "I'm sorry, Jack. I should have-"

Jack waved him off, began walking again. "You did more than anyone else."

"Jack."

"Besides, you took care of me when I was still too young to know I couldn't take care of myself. There's a lot to be said for keeping an eye on fools and children." The pirate grinned wryly to himself. "I may have paid off a bit of that." He was striding forward when the man grabbed his arm, swinging the younger man to face him with unexpected strength.

"Captain." The man's voice failed him, and he shook his head.

Jack slowly smiled. There was more than a casual resemblance between this man and his son. They shared an uncanny nobility. "Come, William. You've suffered your penance. Don't expect me to be adding any." He reached over and ruffled the man's hair as if he were the younger, wayward child. "Savvy?"

The man looked into his face for a long time, then laughed. "Savvy, Jack."

They walked in comfortable silence to the boat, casting off with easy familiarity. It wasn't until they had rowed halfway to the Pearl that William spoke again. "Tell me, Captain. Is it true Barbossa's dead."

"That he is. Dispatched the lying bastard m'self."

The older man watched his captain's face as he rowed for a few minutes. "There's more to that story."

"True enough. But let's save it for when I've had a bit more sleep." He paused to check their distance, and stretched. "Where have you been keeping all this time?"

William shrugged at the gray shrouded sun, putting off his answer. "I don't like the look of that sky." Jack followed his glance and nodded.

"There's weather in those clouds. But the _Pearl_ is sound, if they've finished the mainmast rigging. At least she is now."

"Good."

He began rowing again, pausing as they neared the ship. "So?"

William sighed, looking even older. "Don't know the name of the island I last ended up on. It was quiet. They didn't speak English."

"Lucky devils."

"Indeed. They were kind enough, although after a few months of me not eating, they thought I was some kind of demon. Which I suppose I was."

The water lapped the sides of the dinghy like mercury in the sludgy light. Jack stared thoughtfully at its translucent surface. "How bad was it, William?"

The older man laughed without humor. "Bad enough to forget, Jack. Bad enough." He looked into the depths of the harbor and shuddered. "It was hard to walk away."

"Walk? From an island?"

William shot him a look. "Come on, Captain. You must know."

Jack nodded, realizing. "That's how you got away the first time."

"Once I got those cursed boots off, I walked the ocean bottom for… well. I don't know how long. Time has a way of going away when you wish you were dead."

High above them, on the deck of the _Pearl_, Jack heard Gibbs call out for a ladder to bring the Captain up. He waved his hand absently, still watching his old friend.

"I made for England, first thing, to find Beatrice. But she was gone."

"I'm sorry, William. I heard." The pirate shook his head. "Is there anything I can do?"

William's eyes flared. "I'm bound for Port Royal, if you're heading that way."

"Port Royal? Because of-"

"There's a debt to be paid."

Jack's eyebrows lifted quietly over dark eyes. "A debt?"

"My family is gone because of the _governor_ there." He spat the word. "I'll see him dead before I rest."


	2. Pearl

Thanks to the readers and reviewers – I know that one was a bit short. But the good news is that since I wasn't sleeping last night, the story carries on apace… (and for those who like to see the cast as the author does - William, in my mind, is played by a slightly older Viggo Mortensen).

* * *

The only sound was of miniature waves sloshing against the side of the dinghy, bouncing endlessly between it and the _Pearl._

Jack's expression froze, only his eyes moving to study the man he once knew so well. His voice purred quietly, never betraying his thoughts. "The governor of Port Royal killed your family? And how is that possible, friend?"

William Turner spat the words out. "I stayed in England long enough to find out what had happened to them." His voice suddenly brimmed with sarcasm. "It seems that the owner of the shop she was working in decided he was bored with city life. He sold off half of his property to buy himself a governorship at Port Royal… and he put my Bea on the street. I got it from one of her mates." The man stared at the side of the ship towering over them, rocking gently on the waves. "The poor woman couldn't stop crying when she told me."

The pirate frowned down at his hands, a thoughtful sadness darkening his eyes even more. "She was a good lass, William."

"She was." The older man turned to look him in the face abruptly. "She deserved better."

Jack said nothing. In a graceful movement he caught the rope dangling down the side of the ship and tied off the dinghy, but hesitated before climbing the ladder. He stood with one arm wrapped into the cords. "But the boy-"

"He ran away. They don't know what happened to him."

For the first time in an hour, gold sparkled through the overcast as Jack began climbing, a smile on his face. "Ah, but I do, mate. I do."

They were onboard in a matter of minutes, and Mr. Gibbs was walking over to report to the Captain when he realized who was with him. Stopping dead in his tracks, Gibbs jaw was hanging. "By the saints. Bootstrap." When he couldn't remember any reason that it was bad luck to let a formerly cursed man on deck, he laughed out loud and shook William's hand. "Welcome back to the living, Bill."

There was a hollow ring in Bootstrap's voice as he answered. "I'm not sure I am back. This curse-"

Jack interrupted them smoothly. "The crew of the _Black Pearl_ has heard enough about curses for the time being, William. Mr. Gibbs, we'll catch a few hours of shuteye, and then we'll be wanting to eat. See that Cotton taps one of my kegs."

"For breakfast, Jack?"

Sparrow narrowed his eyes at his old friend with a slow grin. "You've been away too long, mate. You'll forget how to be a pirate."

They slept until a glass past noon, or at least William did. When he awoke to the strangely familiar rhythm of the _Pearl_, Jack had already left the cabin to check over his beloved ship. Some ancient part of Bootstrap Bill smiled in spite of himself. The captain never had a second thought about leaving a woman, but this ship… he shook his head and rolled out of the hammock Jack had rigged, finding his sea legs fast enough. Dressing quickly, he made his way up on deck, strolling to the rail and looking out over the sea.

For a moment his expression relaxed, and he was free, he was peaceful. The wind teased his long curls back and touched his face with spray, shining mist in the sun that had eventually broken through the morning's gray. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Behind him he heard the pilot call out a report. A woman.

"On course for Port Royal, Captain."

"Carry on."

"Aye."

Port Royal. Abruptly William's peaceful mood broke, and a darkness returned to his face.

Jack couldn't help but notice it as he moved to stand at the rail, but leaned quietly for a few minutes, listening to the sea and feeling his ship beneath his feet. A frown crossed his brow as he considered, then he turned to William quickly enough that his hair jingled softly. "I was going to surprise you, old friend. But perhaps it's best you know now." The older man turned warily toward his former captain.

"What's that?"

Jack stared into his eyes, broke into a broad smile. "Your whelp. He lives."

For a moment, the pirate watched as hope attempted to blossom in the man's eyes – a kind of stunned disbelief that faded before it had a chance to catch fire in his heart. "What?"

"Young William, your son. He lives."

The light faded farther, replaced by something darker, more malignant. "No."

Jack frowned. "I tell you he does."

"You're wrong."

This time Jack's frown was tinged with anger as much as surprise, but he tried to brush off the feeling. "Why would I lie? Especially about this?"

"You don't understand, Jack. The curse has its own inheritance. I know that now. None of the men who served Barbossa have any survivors."

Jack tossed his hands in the air in exasperation. "That bunch of scalawags? You have no way of knowing that."

"I think I do." William turned out to look at the water again, but his eyes weren't seeing. The captain was about to argue, but paused, watching. An ominous feeling gripped his stomach.

"Do you."

"Yes." William reached into the wrappings of his belt and pulled out a small leather-bound book. "Barbossa didn't know everything about the blood to be paid."

Jack's eyes focused on the book, then back at his old friend's face. One eyebrow lifted as for the first time, he wondered if being cursed for close to a decade could drive a man completely insane. If not eating, not sleeping, not feeling...could make a man to lose the ability to. He watched as William tapped the book against his hand, speaking urgently.

"This is everything I've learned about the curse of the Aztec gold."

"William…"

"It puts the need for revenge in your blood. If there's any that you've not taken revenge on before you die, the curse will return. Blood needs blood."

The pirate stared at the hollow sound, shook his head. "How?"

"You don't die at the end of your days. You just go back…back to the way you were. Forever."

There was a manic light in the older man's eyes that made Jack more than uneasy. "And this is why you have to kill Swann?"

"You know him?" Turner's eyes flared with hate.

Jack answered cautiously. "I've heard of him."

"He'll be dead soon enough."

The statement fell bleakly across the sun-warmed deck, and Jack considered calling for more canvas as the wind freshened, wondering if hurrying back was such a good idea. He stepped closer to his old friend and spoke softly, reasonably. "William. Is it possible you've become a bit… I don't know… obsessed with the idea of the curse?"

"You don't know, boy. You don't know."

Backing off a bit, Sparrow nodded, quiet once more. William Turner had helped him through some growing up when he was little more than a lad himself, but hadn't talked down to him since he became captain of the _Pearl_. Angry he might have been, frustrated or disagreeable in the heat of a moment, but never insubordinate. He always had too much respect for the traditions of the sea, for the honor of the title captain. That was what made Barbossa's mutiny so impossible for him. Jack Sparrow would have had to do something truly horrible, something dishonorable to the code for William Turner to even consider going against a man he'd sworn loyalty to.

If there was a better indication that something was seriously wrong with his friend, Jack was afraid to see it. Realizing that Anamaria was currently at the wheel some yards astern, and likely hearing everything, he spoke more formally. "Perhaps you'll feel differently when you see your son."

Again, the brief hope flared and died. "My son is dead."

Jack tried a laugh. "Then who is the man I met?"

"He's an impostor. That's all."

"And why –" Jack stopped, shook his head. His eyes were darker than usual as he turned, walked back toward the helm. "I'll take her, Anamaria."

"Aye, Captain. Nor' by nor'east."

"Nor' nor'east. Aye." Jack waited until his keen-eared pilot was farther off. "We'll see, William."

The man turned on him angrily. "Don't change course from Port Royal. That's where I need to go. I don't need any wild goose chase after some lying mirage."

Jack eyed him warily. "Oddly enough, old man, I wasn't changing a thing. Port Royal is where the boy is."

_Maybe he can talk some sense into you._


	3. Port Royal

Thanks to the readers and reviewers, and to Peacockgirl, especially. It makes me want to live up to something!

Still writing instead of sleeping…. *sigh*… these guys…

* * *

Elizabeth Swann rode proudly through the main street of Port Royal, such as it was, while she made for the blacksmith's shop. To her father's certain dismay and embarrassment she was wearing sage green trousers and a billowing silk shirt under a laced doublet of darker green. Whispers followed her as she rode, although her expression remained aloof, superior. It wasn't until she dismounted and tied the animal behind Will's shop that she allowed herself a smug grin. These people had no idea of what she had seen, what she'd lived through. She strongly doubted if any of them had ever been nearly drowned by a corset, or forced to wear stolen dresses designed to make them feel horribly vulnerable. If she had found in the course of her travels that she was more comfortable in trousers than a dress, it was her business alone.

Or rather, hers and Will Turner's. She smiled fondly as she remembered the day she hesitantly brought it up with him, no more than a week after the _Pearl _and her captain had escaped.

* * *

"Will?"

He paused from sketching the latest hilt design ordered by a friend of Commodore Norrington and looked over at her, slightly distracted.

"Yes?" He glanced at her a second time as he realized she was a bit distracted herself, toying idly with one of the tooling hammers. "What is it, Elizabeth? Is something wrong?" The concern that suddenly shone in his warm brown eyes melted her heart.

"I was just wondering." She abruptly adjusted the silken lines of her full skirt as she spoke, trying a different tack in her mind. "If you like this dress." He paused, frowned at her lightly, and put down the quill he was sketching with. Walking to her, he took her hand and held her away from him, narrowing his eyes and studying her as if she were a particularly complex design he had to reproduce.

"It's beautiful," he said finally. Looking into her eyes, he made a little bow as he brushed his lips against her hand. "You're beautiful."

With an uncharacteristically timid smile, Elizabeth turned away from him. This dear pirate disguised as a blacksmith was the only man she had ever met who could make her feel so _shy_. Elizabeth Swann, who had stood up to the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow and held her own against a crew of cursed pirates… reduced by one young man to maiden blushes. She shook her head when she heard his voice again, the gentle, soft tone that he used with her.

"Is something bothering you, Elizabeth?" After so many years of avoiding her name in public, he seemed to relish using it, speaking it as if it were some kind of magic spell.

"No, nothing. It's just that… well. Frankly, I'm not always happy dressing as the Governor's daughter."

He stepped closer, touched her cheek gently. "Darling, you could wear anything at all and you'd still be the most beautiful woman in the world." She dimpled prettily and blushed a bit.

"I'm glad that _you _think so. It's my father, though. He has ideas of what's appropriate for a _lady_." She ran her fingers over the tooling hammer, laying it on the table. Breaking into a rather stilted impression of her father's voice, she said, "'A _lady _doesn't even think of wearing _trousers_.' At least not unless she's on the run from cursed pirates, evidently." She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

Will grinned and looked at the floor before lifting his head to meet her eyes again. "A secret."

"Yes?"

"When I think of you – when you aren't here, that is – most of the time I see you in white trousers and a red coat. In fact-"

He turned to his sketch pad and flipped through the pages of sword designs. Between drawings of two very ornate inlay patterns stood a fine drawing of a beautiful girl in a soldier's uniform, hair flying in the breeze, a sword in her hand. Her dark eyes seemed to look right off the page. Elizabeth gasped.

"Will, this is wonderful… I had no idea…"

"Oh, there are more, but I've kept them in my room. It was the only way I could see you whenever I wanted. I'm sure I felt a little guilty about it." He looked as shy as she had a moment ago, then shook his head, a certain pride filling his eyes. "When we're married, love, I promise you can wear anything you like."

* * *

Elizabeth realized through the haze of the kiss following that promise that it was the first time he had spoken directly of marriage. Soon after she was wearing trousers rather defiantly, at least whenever she went riding, and was also proudly wearing a delicately filigreed gold ring set with a bright ruby on her left hand.

She looked down at it now and smiled as she finished tying off her horse's lead. It seemed the dire Captain Sparrow had somehow managed to get a small leather bag into Will's shop a few weeks later, filled with a handful apparently taken from the floor of the cavern on the Isla De Muerta. With it was the tattered note: _You earned a share. There's more if you need it. –JS, cptn_. Will had been worried, but she told him that for her, having a ring of reforged pirate treasure seemed like the most delightfully appropriate thing in the world.

Shaking her thoughts back to the present and grabbing a small sack from her saddlebag, Elizabeth went in the back door of the smith's. She could hear hammering from outside, and knew that Will was having a 'dirty day', as he called them, rather than a designing day.

His swords were becoming legendary in Port Royal, and word was spreading quickly now that Brown had officially retired. It was Turner's shop now; although Elizabeth had a strange feeling he wouldn't stay there for much longer. Jack would probably have said that the pirate in his blood was calling him to the sea more every day… and she might have fought it if she didn't feel it herself. She sighed as she waited for him to see her, not hearing the door over the noise of the forge and hammer. He turned instinctively, and a broad smile shone across his smudged face.

"Elizabeth!" She stepped toward him and he leaned over to kiss her carefully, trying as always not to get the grime of his work on her. "I warned you it was dirty today. What brings you here? Not that I mind, of course."

She smiled, held up the bag. "I think I found out how Jack got that sack to you."

Will frowned. "Another one? Where?"

"My windowsill." She handed him the sack and shook her head, sitting comfortably on the edge of the cart. "More gold, but it looks like regular money. I could barely read the note, and didn't understand what little I made out. Do you?"

Will put down his hammer and unfurled the paper carefully. "How did you say it got to your windowsill?"

"I didn't. But I heard a strange voice in the night say _'awwwk. shiver me timbers'_ at my window." She tried to look affronted as he laughed at her impression. "Scared me half to death, I'll have you know."

"Sorry, darling." He squinted at the paper, frowning.

_Got a bit of a surprise for you and the whelp. Thursday moonrise. Four miles north, by the stream. And for the love of God, buy us something unsalted. –JS, cptn_

Will read it again slowly, stumbling over the handwriting. "The man writes like he walks. Straight lines are completely optional." Frowning at Elizabeth, he shook his head. "As near as I can figure, he means to come to shore up at the old bridge."

"The old bridge?"

He smiled. "I wouldn't expect a _fine lady_ to know the place, but I used to go up there a lot. A few miles outside of town, a stream comes out of the woods into the ocean. It's probably a watering hole for them." Handing her the scrap of paper, he turned back to the forge. "I'm not sure how good an idea it is for him to be coming so close to town." Elizabeth watched his back for a few moments, then spoke quietly.

"You want to go with him, don't you." He spun to look at her, his expression concerned.

"I don't want to leave you, Elizabeth."

It was her turn to smile as she stood and paced boldly over to him. "Do you really think, Will Turner, that I would let you go off without me?" When the kiss ended she had a smudge across her face that he made worse by trying to wipe it away. They laughed as she found a clean rag.

"I'm not sure, Elizabeth. But sometimes…"

"I know." She brushed her hand gently across his cheek. "I know, Will. We've got two days to think about it, and to buy some fresh provisions for the _Pearl_. Then we'll see what happens."

Resisting the temptation to pull her into his sooty arms, Will stared into her eyes and spoke simply. "I love you."

Two days later they were riding together, two lovers out to see the moonlight on a beautiful night. No one noticed when their path led north of the city, and no one, except Governor Swann, was concerned when they didn't get back early. He paced the balcony outside his room fretfully, feeling in his bones that something was terribly, terribly wrong.


	4. A Curse Revisited

Jack Sparrow, his head tilted slightly, sat on a fallen log in the bright moonlight. His boots were almost in the water as he stared thoughtfully at his hand, wiggling his fingers and watching the long, slender shadows they cast onto the rotting wood. A quiet voice broke into his reverie.

"Do you think about it often?"

Internally cursing his distraction, Jack swung to his feet and stepped over the log gracefully as Will and Elizabeth walked up behind him. There was an awkward moment when Will put out his hand and Jack stared at it, one eyebrow peaked; then they both grinned as Jack grabbed the proffered hand and pulled the younger man closer, slapping him on the back with a laugh.

"It's good to see you again, Jack."

It hadn't taken Will long to realize that as odd as it seemed, Captain Jack Sparrow, scourge of the Spanish Main, was the closest thing he had to family. Of course now he also had Elizabeth, but Will was quick enough to know that in his own roundabout way, Jack was largely responsible for them being together.

"And you, lad. You look well. Keeping yourself busy, are you?"

Will gave him a wry look. "Why do I have a feeling you know exactly how I've been doing?"

The pirate captain shrugged, his palm outstretched. "'Cause I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, that's why." His dark eyes laughed in the moonlight. "And you, milady." Taking both her hands in his, he made a formal if somewhat piratical bow. "I understand congratulations are in order."

Elizabeth shook her head, wondering at how little and how much had changed in the three months since she last saw the man. "I believe you may call me 'Elizabeth' now, -_Captain_ Sparrow."

His smile sparkled, golden stars in the night. "A charming wench you've found, Will. I'd marry her myself if I hadn't sworn off monogamy." Gracefully pulling her into his arms, he added, "But I'm sure you won't mind if I kiss the bride." Elizabeth stared at him with indignant amusement when he dipped her backwards, and Will calmly stopped him with a tap on the shoulder.

"She's not a bride _yet_, Jack." The pirate looked petulant.

"But I may not see her then."

"Jack…"

"Just one. For old times sake."

"_Old times_? It was only two months ago."

"More like three, actually."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and glanced at Will's only slightly annoyed expression, as if his older brother were trying to borrow his bike. She muttered, just loud enough for them to hear, "Bloody pirates."

Sparrow smiled suggestively at her, lowered his face to hers and kissed her long enough for the younger man to frown. Setting her upright again, he looked at Will with great seriousness. "Congratulations, mate. I wish you every best kind of luck." Elizabeth was shaking her head as he stepped away, leaving Will room to move back to her side where he slipped his arm around her waist protectively.

"You're incorrigible, Jack."

"Yes, yes I am." He leaned forward to point at an odd angle. "And don't you forget it."

"You make that consistently impossible." The pirate looked quietly triumphant at Will's sincere statement. "I must say seeing you _is_ quite the surprise. Did you come to Port Royal to congratulate us? Or just to 'kiss the bride'?"

Jack gave a sly grin. "Oh, it's a bigger surprise than that, mate. And here it comes."

They followed Jack's look toward a noise growing in the underbrush where the stream came out of the wood, twinkling in the moonlight. Several of the crew came crunching through, carrying kegs of water slung neatly between oars. Jack called quietly to them. "Mr. Gibbs, see the water safely stowed, and leave our guest here with me."

"Aye, Cap'n." Gibbs looked back and forth in the night and shook his head. He walked off muttering about bad luck and gathering water under a full moon. The presence of Bootstrap had put the captain in an unusual temper the last few days, and the crew was feeling the strain. Gibbs only hoped that coming to Port Royal would calm things down.

Jack glanced over at William, who had, out of habit, stayed in the shadows rather than stepping into the moonlight. The captain looked up to the stars, perhaps for guidance, and then said clearly, "William Turner."

Two voices answered simultaneously. One younger and a bit confused; the other more mature and bone-weary. "Yes?"

"Show yourself, man."

Elizabeth gasped, her hand to her mouth, as the older Turner stepped out into the light. The look on his face was more harsh, and certainly more weathered, but she could see the resemblance to her Will instantly. It was not an identical match, the older man's eyes looking blue-green in the night and his hair a bit lighter, more curled, but the _expression_ in those eyes. The intensity, the set of the jaw, the lips, the brow... Clearly they were father and son. Will's arm slipped from her waist and she felt strangely nervous as he took a tentative step forward.

"Father?" The boy's eyes were shining as he whispered with hopeful fear. "Can it be?"

Jack grinned, gold glinting in the moonlight. "It's him, lad." He turned toward the older man and slapped his shoulder. "Come, William. Do you have nothing to say to your son?"

William Turner defiantly took a step toward the sea, looking away from them. "He's not my son. My son's dead."

"William…"

The younger Turner looked confused. "Jack? What… he looks just like…" Turning to Elizabeth his voice tightened. "He looks like my father…"

Jack stepped closer to the older man, with a grace that made his speed deceptive. "Look at him." The man shook his head. "Damn you, Turner, look at him!" He grabbed his arm and swung him around. "You were my best lookout once. Tell me what you see now." His voice lowered to a slow rumble. "Or will you not believe your own eyes."

William Turner's head was downcast. Slowly, he looked up toward Will's face. When he finally saw the tormented expression, he blinked, shook his head as if to clear it. He nearly stumbled as he stepped closer, his hand outstretched toward the lad's face.

"By God. He has her eyes."

Jack exhaled as if he'd been holding his breath for far too long and looked over at Will; an old, fond smile touching his features. "Indeed he does, William. Indeed he does."

Years seemed to fall from the older man as he took another step toward Will, who stood frozen, too fearful to move lest he wake from this dream. Finally, he spoke in a bare whisper. "Father?"

Turner nodded, tears coming to his eyes as he wrapped his son in his arms. "Yes. Will. My boy…" They stood locked for some minutes while Elizabeth, eyes wet herself, moved to hug a startled Jack.

"This is the most wonderful thing you've ever done, Captain Jack Sparrow." Her dark eyes searched his. "How did you ever find him?"

"He found me, love. I just waited until he felt it was the opportune moment."

"Well, you're wonderful nonetheless." She turned back to where Will and his father stood, a bit apart now, staring at each other in disbelief.

"I thought you were dead. They told me – Barbossa said –"

"I thought you were as well. After I learned of your mother…" The older man looked skyward. "May she forgive me."

Will frowned. "She never had anything to forgive. She loved you."

The light that Jack had seen in William's eyes some days before returned, briefly, but died again. "I don't know why." The son frowned, seeing the change himself without understanding it.

"Father. I have to know… did she know you were a pirate?"

His father looked startled for a moment, but nodded. "Of course she did. She was my wife."

"She never told me."

The man gave a sad smile. "Because I begged her not to. She was a good woman, your mum."

Will frowned, nodded at the ground. "Yes." He seemed to find it difficult to get his voice under control. "She told me to find you, when she was… when she…"

"It's alright, lad. There's no shame in tears over losing a woman like that. Lord knows I shed enough myself."

Will nodded as words failed him. Elizabeth, unable to watch any longer, put her hand on his arm with a gentle touch. "Elizabeth," he whispered apologetically, gathering her in his arms. "This is my father." She nodded, smiled kindly at him.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Turner."

Jack looked suddenly uneasy.

"Father, this is Elizabeth S-"

"Turner, soon enough." Jack broke in and took her left hand, showing off the ring. "A fine pair of lovebirds, these two."

Will stared at Jack, feeling that something was not being said. When he caught the pirate's eye, there was that _look_; as if he were willing him to understand, to follow his lead. The younger man felt the uneasiness, but trusted that Jack would let him know eventually what it was about. If Jack didn't want his father to know Elizabeth was a Swann, perhaps it was because as a pirate his father had something against him. Assuming that was the case, Will nodded imperceptibly at Jack, before turning to look at his father again.

The look he saw there made him more concerned. "Father?"

"You plan to wed, then?"

The couple looked at each other quickly, at Jack, and back to Turner. "Yes, father, we do. Is something wrong?"

The dark expression in his father's clear eyes chilled Will to the bone. "Then it's even more important for the curse to be lifted."

"The curse? But I thought-"

"No. There's more to it than Barbossa ever knew. Blood wants blood. There's still a debt to be paid."

"I don't understand."

Jack dropped his head, shaking it slowly. He had hoped that seeing Will would clear his old friend's mind, but it didn't appear to have worked. As the man kept talking, the creeping suspicion only felt worse.

"The man that killed your mother set things in another direction. If vengeance isn't taken on him, then your wife will suffer the same fate as mine. It's the legacy of the curse."

"The man that killed my mother? But… she died of consumption."

"Only because she was out of work and scraping to make ends meet, living off the street half the time. If that shopkeeper hadn't sold out and let her go, she'd still be alive today."

Will frowned, confused. He looked at Jack, feeling the worry growing. "I don't know if that's possi-"

"It's true, I tell you! And the man must die. You must kill him if you don't want your wife to suffer like your mother did!" The yell made Elizabeth jump, and Will felt his heart sinking. His father must be mad to think… but with what he himself had seen, wasn't it possible? What wasn't possible anymore?

"Alright then, if there is a curse… who is the man?"

When William Turner responded, there was an unholy fire in his eyes.

"His name's Swann. Governor of Port Royal."


	5. Change in the Wind

Will stared in shock at his father while Elizabeth clung to his side. "…Governor Swann?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure he didn't have anything to do with-"

Turner grabbed his son by the arm and yanked him away from Elizabeth, growling urgently into his startled face. "Do you want to see her die the way your mother did? Or have the curse rest on you the way it did on Barbossa's crew?"

"But that curse was on the gold… it's all been returned."

"You don't understand, boy. Do you think they'd get off that easy?"

The boy frowned. "You're right. I don't understand."

"It keeps on. Through their children's children. A legacy of revenge in the blood as long as there's a debt to be paid."

Will saw the expression on Elizabeth's face and looked desperately towards Jack, whose dark eyes were deep with concern. Slowly the pirate shook his head.

Elizabeth caught the look between them and edged closer to the pirate. She looked at him imploringly, and he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Jack. What's going on? What's he talking about?"

"Easy, love." His voice was quiet as his hand moved softly on her back. "We'll figure it out." Raising his voice, he looked at Turner. "William. Why don't we go back to the _Pearl,_ instead of arguing about killing the man in his own backyard."

The older Turner's expression was so intense he was nearly trembling. Something in Jack's composed delivery, as usual, seemed to get through to him, and he slowly calmed himself. "Alright, Captain." He looked at his son. "I'll tell you when we're alone. This is Turner business now."

Jack only glared for a moment before he spun back toward the shore, taking a few swaggering steps and lifting his arms. "Wonderful. Back to the ship. And the rum." He widened his eyes in disbelief when no one could see his face, muttering under his breath. "Everything looks clearer through rum."

Will, in his distraction, stopped suddenly. "Jack-" The pirate continued his gracefully erratic spin until he was facing Will again. "The provisions. I have three crates of fruit and vegetables back in the clearing." He shrugged a grin in spite of the tension of the situation. "Bananas, too."

"Ah, yes. Well, we'll send Gibbs and a few-"

"No. Will and I will get them. You go on. We'll take the other dinghy."

Jack looked thoughtfully at his old friend, and stole a glance at Will as well. Leaving the boy alone with his seemingly unstable father might not be the best course. Setting aside his usual stealth, he shook his head. "We can wait here."

"No." William's voice was hard, but he softened it as he continued. "It'll give us a chance to talk, Captain. You wouldn't begrudge a man time with his son after all these years." There was a wheedling quality by the time he finished.

The dark eyes of Captain Sparrow stared into Turner's clear blue-green, as years of knowing each other well crashed into the suspicions brought on by a week of dealing with a stranger. It was young Will who broke the moment.

"I'll go with him, Jack." The pirate shifted his look to the younger man, feeling the odd sensation that he was looking at a more real version of his old friend. The boy's jaw was set, the determination that Jack had come to know so well shining in his eyes. "It'll be alright." Then his eyes narrowed, and he looked more intensely than before. "Take care of Elizabeth."

Jack raised an eyebrow. Elizabeth watched in worried fascination as her fiancé seemed to have a silent conversation with the pirate. She was more worried when Will walked over to her and kissed her, gently, in front of them all.

"I may be a while," he whispered.

"Will…"

He smiled at her, reassuringly. "Stick with Jack." For some reason the tension in her chest blossomed into tears that pricked at her eyelids. She took his face in her hands, pulled him close and kissed him passionately.

After a minute she whispered, "I'll be waiting."

Jack cleared his throat. "Not too long, lads. We need to put Port Royal to our backs before dawn. They'd be a little too happy to give us a party."

* * *

Candlelight gave the mahogany wood of the captain's table a red sheen as Jack, Elizabeth, Gibbs, and Anamaria sat around it, sharing the captain's best. Crewmen came and went as the night went on, reporting in with their Captain or just sharing a cup of rum. They told Elizabeth the tale of sailing back to the Isla De Muerta, of taking enough of the swag there to finish refitting the _Pearl_. As the rum flowed, she shared the stories of the reputation she and Will had attained in Port Royal, of her father's dismay and Norrington's fond support.

"I suppose I only saw how much he really cared by that… how willing he was to do anything for my happiness." She looked into her cup and sighed prettily. "He's been sending Will customers ever since."

"Don't tell me the whelp's gone and become friends with that stick."

Elizabeth laughed, the rum seeming to ease any worries she had about Will and his father. "I wouldn't say 'friends'… but it appears they have a code." Stretching, she watched with sleepy curiosity as Jack refilled her cup. "He's a fine man."

"Maybe you're wanting to be with the Commodore now, eh?" Elizabeth turned on Anamaria indignantly, ready with a sharp retort until she caught the sparkle in the beautiful pilot's eye. Clearly she was being teased, as if she were any one of the crew. Elizabeth pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"No, not really." She picked up her cup again and looked over it, nearly spilling. "He's all yours, if you want him."

She drank deeply as Jack laughed out loud. "Now there would be a couple. Norrington and our Miss Ana." Anamaria's eyes narrowed dangerously as she turned to her captain.

"And you think I'm not good enough for him?"

The captain froze, wide-eyed, his eyes darting as if looking for possible escape routes from his own quarters. Abruptly his body seemed to collapse on itself as he relaxed, leaned toward her. "Quite the contrary, love. My point is that he couldn't keep up with you." This seemed to appease her somewhat, but not entirely. He went for broke, slurring over his words as he added what he knew to be her favorite compliment. "And you'd most certainly have beautiful children together." He looked around the table for support.

Gibbs shrugged thoughtfully and nodded, and Elizabeth giggled.

"You think it's funny?"

Miss Swann laid on the sophistication of a lifetime. "Miss Ana. I would happily dance at your wedding."

That seemed to do the trick, and the conversation eased off comfortably. Elizabeth rested her head for a minute on the table, turning it toward Jack. "Is Mr. Turner alright, Jack? I mean, he doesn't _really _want to kill my father, does he?"

"Dunno, love, but we'll keep a weather eye out." Jack stretched back from the table and put his boots up on the edge. "There's something not quite right there. But then, I don't know how right I would be if I was under a curse for ten years."

"You _were _under a curse, Jack. You didn't have the _Pearl_." Elizabeth smiled sleepily, her eyes closing. Jack stared at her in surprise for a moment, opened his mouth to reply - and she began to snore softly. Gibbs chuckled as Ana saved her drink from spilling.

"She holds her rum pretty well for a high-born wench. Not the best, but not bad."

"Indeed." Captain Sparrow, his eyes still on their sleeping guest. "But she's a perceptive little thing."

"Aye." Anamaria shifted her belt and pulled out a small leather book. "I've been taking a look at this, Jack. Did Bootstrap tell ye where he was last?"

"Only that they didn't speak English. And they thought he was…" he gestured randomly. "A demon in the end. Why?"

She shook her head, opened the book on the table between them. "You know I don't have much call for readin'… but this drawing he did looks familiar."

Jack grinned at the book, glinting gold in the candlelight. "He always was drawing things. Must run in the family."

"I suppose." She turned the book to face him. "Have you ever seen the like of these?"

The page said _Some kind of temple, near village_. Under the neat draftsman's lettering was a detailed picture of a vaguely human figure under crosshatched lines. It could have represented a net, or some kind of mosaic. The figure, however, had a look of tortured terror on its face.

"S'lovely. Never seen one before." He pushed the book back to her and noticed a look in her eyes that he rarely saw from Anamaria without anger to back it up. _Fear_. "What's it mean, love?"

She shook her head, touched her hand briefly to her forehead with her fingers in some kind of symbol before picking up the book again. "If this is the island I think it is, Bootstrap may be under a curse after all." She looked at Gibbs and pointed to the picture. "The caged man. The island is called _Kraji_."

Gibbs muttered under his breath. Jack turned to him. "You know it?"

The older man shook his head, until Ana caught his eye with a solid stare. Then he downed his rum in one go. "Aye, I've heard of it. But you won't find a crew that'll choose to sail there. The natives are a bit _unforgiving_, if you know what I mean. And there's nothing worth taking."

Jack frowned at the book. "Really."

* * *

Elizabeth awoke to the sounds of sailors calling back and forth to each other up on deck. She frowned sleepily, but suddenly bolted upright as she realized the soft rocking motion was the Pearl at sea. Looking around in panic, she saw by the dim light filtering through the heavy glass windows of the captain's quarters that she was alone laying on top of Jack's bed, a sheet of bright red China silk pulled over her still dressed body. "Will?" Nothing. "Jack!" When no answer came to her call, she darted from the bed, pulled on her boots and headed up to the main deck.

Captain Jack Sparrow was at the helm, his face set in a more openly angry expression than she had yet seen.

"Jack? What's going on?"

He turned to give her a calculating look. "Your dear William didn't return last night. Nor did his father." She frowned, her mouth opening to question him. "I waited as long as I could, sent some men ashore. They followed the trail as far as Port Royal, where they got news that a ship has been commandeered by pirates. The merchant frigate _Esperance_."

"What does that have to do with Will?"

He exhaled heavily. "There was other news as well. Evidently the Governor of Port Royal has been kidnapped."

Elizabeth's hand flew to her mouth. "Father?" Slowly her eyes widened as realization hit. "Turner? And Will? But…" Tears came to her eyes as she searched the horizon in increasing panic.

"We're not done yet, love. We'll catch them."

"How? How do you even know where they're going?"

Jack looked at her, considered, and took a deep breath. "They're not all that's gone, lass."

"What do you mean?"

Reaching into the pocket of his coat he pulled out a fine chain that ended with a broken link. When he spoke, the words fell into the space between them like stones into water. "He took my compass."


	6. In the Blood

My oh my but it's _cold_ here. School-closing wind chills. Feh. At least it gives one time to write…

Oh - my dear lady de Montreve… was that a good exclamation or a condemning one? (just curious…) Thanks again to the Peacock, the Ping Pong, and the Piper… (my reviewers are so alliterative! Love 'em!)

* * *

The night had passed even less calmly on shore.

Will walked away from Jack and the rest of Sparrow's crew with a heavy heart. His father was quiet, striding quickly until they had walked the quarter mile back to the clearing; then he looked around them suspiciously until he was satisfied they weren't being followed. The older Turner moved back to his son and leaned in to speak quietly to him.

"I think we're clear. You can't be too sure with old Jack."

"Sure of what?"

"Sure that he'll leave you alone to do what you have to do."

Will's brows came together as he stared at his father. "I thought you two were friends. Good friends. He's - spoken highly of you."

The sadness in his father's eyes was unmistakable. "Aye, we were friends alright. A lifetime ago. I don't think I'm capable of having any friends now."

"Father…" Will slowed, at a loss for words.

"Don't argue, boy. Just follow me. Once we get this taken care of, it'll all be put right again. Your life will be put right. I just have to finish what I've started…" Turner trailed off as they walked toward the horses that Will and Elizabeth had tied in the clearing.

"If we set them free they should get home fine." The blacksmith, always good with animals, rubbed his hand over his horse's nose and exhaled heavily as it snorted. Right now it felt like the horse was more solid than his father.

"No. We'll ride them to Port Royal."

"What?" Will's eyes widened. "What do you mean? I told Elizabeth… We told Jack that we'd be back with the supplies before dawn."

"A man can only do what he can do."

"I don't understand. Why do we have to go to Port Royal?"

"I told you before, boy. Swann is there."

Will felt a cold fear pooling in his chest. "Father… you can't mean to really kill the Governor?"

When his father spun to look at him, Will was nearly knocked over by the force of his tone. "Why would I lie?"

"But…" Will gestured hopelessly. "You can't."

His father stepped closer, threatening. "Why can't I?"

Far too many years of holding his tongue with Master Brown followed by the liberating adventure that was Jack Sparrow had made Will less than accepting of threats. His voice hardened, along with his gaze. "Because I won't let you."

"_You _won't let me?"

"That's right." His eyes were steely as one of his best swords. "Jack Sparrow told me you were a good man. A good man wouldn't do this. At least not without reason."

"I told you! He killed your mother!"

"And I was _there_." They stared at each other for a long minute, father against son. "I think _I_ know how she died a bit better than _you _do."

Abruptly William frowned, staggered back a step before catching his balance. Will couldn't stop himself from reaching to make sure he was alright. "Father?"

The older man shook his head. "No. No. If I don't… If you don't… then you're both doomed. It's too late for me." He clutched his head as if he might tear it off. "I already failed your mother. I can't…"

Will grasped his arms. "Tell me what you're talking about."

Turner shook his head, trying to recompose himself. "The curse…"

"What curse? The curse of Cortez is done, it's gone. I know. I was part of it. _We _were part of it."

"There's more to it."

"I don't believe it."

"Will…" Turner seemed to be fighting himself, trying to speak. "I can't… " He trembled abruptly and collapsed, unconscious.

"Father!" Will lunged to catch him as he sank down, managing to keep his head from hitting the rocks. Shifting around so that he could cradle his father's head in his lap, he pushed the long hair back, trying to see if his breathing was anywhere near normal. "Father?" He whispered urgently as he grabbed a hand, feeling for a pulse. The man's eyelids fluttered weakly.

"Will…"

"I'm here."

"I have to do this. I have to take Swann."

"Take him where?"

"The island. Isla de Muerta. I promised the crew. It's the only way."

"The _Pearl's_ crew?" Will couldn't keep the horror out of his voice. If his father had arranged a mutiny –

"No. The crew of the ship I'm meeting." Turner's voice was slowly gaining strength, but waves of pain still seemed to crash on him.

"What are you talking about? What ship?"

"I have to take Swann. Tonight. I sent ahead to get a crew here from Tortuga – it was pure luck that I found Jack and didn't have to broke passage. It's the promise of the treasure stored on the island that bought me a crew."

Will's eyes were troubled, the warm brown fraught with concern. "Father…"

The older Turner's eyes narrowed as he grasped Will's arm. "You have to come with me. You have to be part of it. Don't you see? The curse… it's on you, too. You're my son, how can it not be? You're my blood…" Tears pooled in his eyes. "I failed your mother, I can't fail you, too."

"Failed her? How?" Will regretted his brusque tone as soon as he saw the pain in his father's eyes. "She never said a word against you."

That seemed to hurt as much as anything else. "If I hadn't failed Jack, if I'd kept Barbossa from taking the _Pearl_… I'd have kept sending her money… she wouldn't have been depending on that shop… and she'd be alive." He choked on his words. "She'd be alive. And you wouldn't have been made to serve like a slave of an apprentice all these years. Don't you see? I've failed, again and again, I've failed my family, my captain, my Bea…"

Will frowned as he held his father, who shook like a leaf in a gale. His mind raced over the situation, trying desperately to figure out what he could do. Clearly his father was disturbed, unstable. Whether there was anything to this legacy of the curse or not, he couldn't just abandon him. Lord knows what he might do. A thought occurred to him suddenly.

"Father – we have no way of finding the island. Jack's the only one I know-"

His father shook his head, wiping his sleeve back across his eyes as he struggled to a sitting position with Will's help. "We can. I've got this."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, familiar looking box. Will gasped.

"You stole his compass?"

"Borrowed. Borrowed with every intention of returning. If I don't take some of that swag to pay off the crew, I'll never get Swann out of Port Royal."

Will looked down and shook his head, his mind swimming through his father's convoluted arguments. "I don't know."

"Will." He lifted his eyes to meet his father's. "You've got to come with me. It's the only way."

For a long moment Will stared at him, motionless. Then he glanced back the way they came, toward the harbor where the _Black Pearl_ sat out some distance from the shore; the ship where his friend and his love were waiting for him. He looked back to his father, who apparently shifted between madness and fragility with alarming ease. He'd already lost his mother when he was too young to do anything about it. Perhaps now, as a man, he could find a way to save his troubled father… and Elizabeth's as well.

"Alright. I'll come with you."

They rode up to the gate of the Governor's estate quietly in the night. Will had been thinking the whole trip back how he might pull this off without bringing the whole fort down on them or hurting Swann in the process. A plan formed slowly, and now he was spending most of his nervous energy hoping it would work.

"You go around to the stables and get another horse. I'll go to the main house and bring him out."

"Are you sure you can get him to come without a fight?"

Will sighed as he shot a look over toward the fort that sat at the water's edge, and out to the ocean beyond. "I believe I know the proper leverage."

* * *

Governor Weatherby Swann was still sitting up in his library, waiting for his daughter to return. He glanced up at the huge grandfather clock with a sigh. The young blacksmith was a likeable enough fellow, he supposed, but still… he had such high hopes for the girl. He had worked so hard to put her in a high position, knowing that with her beauty she would easily attract someone who could take care of her when he was gone.

With another sigh he turned a page, realized he wasn't actually reading, shut the book and lay it down on the elegant rosewood table. Standing to pace over to the window, he could see men moving on ships far below in the never-sleeping harbor, beneath a moon so full and bright that he could practically have read by it. His footman appeared with a soft _ahem_.

"Governor. Mr. Turner wishes to speak with you. He says it's somewhat urgent."

The Governor looked at him in surprise. "And my daughter?"

"Mr. Turner appears to be alone, m'lord."

Swann frowned, opened his mouth to speak, and shut it again. He swept out of the room and down to the front hall.

"Mr. Turner."

"Governor Swann." Will felt a flutter in his stomach as he saw the man's expression.

"Where is my daughter?"

Will worked at sounding distraught. "Sir, that's what I've come to tell you. We have to go after her. I've got a ship waiting." He moved toward the door and let Swann's voice stop him.

"What are you talking about?" The Governor's voice was harsh, and Will found he didn't have to play at looking nervous. He put his hand to his head, as if he was forgetting things.

"I'm sorry, Sir. The_ Black Pearl_ was harbored up near Bridgewater, and we were riding near there -"

The Governor looked shocked. "The _Black Pearl_?"

"Yes, sir. And I tried to stop her, but you know your daughter…"

"For the love of God. What happened?"

Will sighed, shook his head. "We ran into Jack Sparrow. He took her aboard." The blacksmith managed to look like he might cry. "I always wondered, but I think she's decided to go off with him."

"I thought you two were…" The Governor waved his hand vaguely.

"As did I, m'lord. But you know she's always had feelings for real pirates. And surely you remember what Sparrow said the day he escaped… maybe he's decided it could work out between them after all…" He put his hand over his eyes and dropped his head, peeking through his fingers to see what the Governor's reaction would be. He wasn't disappointed. Swann blustered desperately.

"But he… but she… No! You are engaged, are you not?"

"Well, yes, Sir, but we both know you've never been pleased about that."

"Nonsense! The girl doesn't know her own mind. You've got to get her back!"

Will kept his head down, but a slow grin crossed his face. He let his voice become hopeful. "Then… you'll help me convince her?"

Governor Swann grabbed his hat and shoved it on his head. "Of course, son. She's made a promise to you, accepted your ring." He was out the door before Will was. "We'll get her back."

As he followed the Governor down to the horses, Will breathed a sigh of relief. Now all that was left to do was convince _his _father that he didn't have to kill his _fiancée_'s father. At least he had the trip to Isla De Muerta to work on that one. Looking out to sea, his focus drifted north of the harbor, willing the appearance of a familiar ship.

_______________Come on, Jack._


	7. The Caged Man

Many thanks to those who are sticking with me. A long weekend let me write a long chapter. Go figure. Perhaps some issues will be addressed in this one… Lordy, I hope so…

* * *

The merchant ship _Esperance_ wasn't built for speed. Safe and slow, with a minimal crew of twelve, she made her way toward Isla De Muerta.

Dawn found Will Turner standing at her stern searching for familiar sails, his thoughts becoming more jumbled as he lost sleep over the situation. For the hundredth time since it became light enough to see he searched the horizon, mumbled 'come on, Jack'. He couldn't understand why the _Pearl _hadn't overtaken them by now, and he wanted that quite desperately. More than anything he wanted to talk to someone he could trust. He'd given up on trying to convince his father without Jack's help - every time he tried to get a logical explanation of the curse out of the man the story seemed to change – and if he pointed that out his father would storm off in anger.

Will was so absorbed in his search that he didn't realize he was not alone until the man next to him spoke.

"A fine morning, Master Turner." Will jumped as he turned to see Governor Swann standing next to him.

"Yes, yes, a fine morning. We should make good time today." The lad shifted uneasily, glancing up to the full sails and repeating himself. "A fine morning." He gave the Governor a tight smile and looked back out over the sea.

Weatherby Swann nodded, his hands folded behind his back. He was noticing things. The crew didn't talk much. The captain, this 'Bootstrap' as they called him, looked at him with a combination of contempt and fear – but Swann expected that from a pirate. It was the boy that worried him. He looked over at Will from the corner of his eye, studied the taut posture, and sighed.

"Master Turner." Will looked at him, his eyebrows raised.

"Sir?"

"Are you alright?"

Will frowned down at the rail, gathering his wandering thoughts, and looked abruptly up at the Governor.

"Is it true that you owned several shops in London before you came to Port Royal? And that you sold them off?"

Swann looked mildly startled at the seemingly random question but answered easily enough.

"Yes, I suppose I did."

Will's eyes narrowed. "And you closed them up?"

This time Swann frowned. "I didn't close them, I sold them. I was assured they would remain in operation. Couldn't very well put fifty or sixty people out on the street, could I?"

Confusion was laced through Will's voice. "But my mother – she was a seamstress in one of your factories that closed."

"Then she should have been moved in a closing, that was part of the arrangement." He looked distressed. "Unless she was ill, of course. Illness took so many that year… it was dreadful." After a brief silence he looked at Will and saw his answer in the boy's face. "I'm sorry, son. The law was that anyone who showed symptoms had to say away until they were better. The new owner wouldn't have had a choice." He shook his head, looking sincerely sympathetic. "I am sorry for your loss."

Will nodded, staring blindly out over the water. Swann kept talking, rambling sadly to fill the silence.

"Damn the town. It took Elizabeth's mother as well… that was the reason I had to get her out of there. It isn't healthy, so many people, living that close. Even outdoors the air feels like it's been overused when you breathe it in." He shook his head. "When the opportunity rose to bring her to the Caribbean, take the governorship, I didn't hesitate." He looked out fondly over the sun-kissed waters. "It's a lonelier life for me, perhaps… but I think she's happy." He glanced over at Will briefly. "I admit, I had higher hopes for her than a swordsmith –"

Will noticed the upgrade to his profession and couldn't help a small grin.

"-but she's happy. That's all that really matters to me."

The governor took a deep breath as they both settled into this newer level of communication. "Now. Suppose you tell me what's really going on here."

Will blinked, attempting innocence. "What do you mean, Sir?"

"Listen, young man. I may be old and I'm certainly fond of my daughter, but I'm no fool."

"I never suggested-" The governor stopped him with a raised hand.

"We are supposedly chasing the notorious Jack Sparrow, who sails the _Black Pearl._ Certainly the fastest ship in these waters."

"Yes…"

Swann put his hand on the rail. "Then perhaps you can tell me why, if my daughter – your fiancée – is on a fast ship that left before we did, why you've been keeping watch off the stern for three days."

Will stared at him, looked toward the bow, opened his mouth and closed it again. "I –"

"The truth, please." His hard expression looked more desperate for a moment. "And tell me, for the love of God, if Elizabeth is safe."

The younger man looked him in the eye and saw a strength and determination that he never would have expected from the old man. Evidently Elizabeth didn't inherit everything from her mother. He hesitated only a moment before making his decision. Glancing around quickly, he stepped closer to the governor.

"Sir. It's a bit of a long story."

* * *

The _Black Pearl_ had been sailing for less than a day when Elizabeth knocked hesitantly on the door of the captain's quarters. "Jack?"

There was a distracted pause before he answered. "Come." She started to open the door, hesitated. Inside the room he looked up from his table spread with charts, puzzled, and slowly smiled. "S'alright, lass. I'm decent."

Elizabeth pushed the door open and walked in, looked at the jumble of papers. "Is this a bad time – Captain?"

Jack grinned at her deference and gestured toward a chair. "Make yourself at home, love. I'm just plotting as best I can with an ordinary compass."

She nodded, sat on the edge of a chair, her hands folded in her lap. He made a couple of marks, surprisingly efficiently, before looking over at her. "You just here to watch, then?"

"Well, I – " she stopped, ran her hand over her pulled-back hair. "I'm just wondering what's going to happen."

He smiled at her ironically, gold glinting. "If I knew that, love, I could make my fortune as a prophet, couldn't I." He chuckled quietly at himself. "A tidy prophet, I'd make." She smiled briefly in spite of herself as he raised his eyebrows at her.

"I mean with my father. You don't think – I mean – could Will really believe –" she stopped, stood up abruptly and turned toward the door. "I'm sorry. I just…"

Jack put down his pencil and straightedge, came around the table to face her. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he waited until she lifted tearful eyes to look at him. "Listen, love. I'm sure Will went along to keep anything from happening. And we're going to catch up in plenty of time to make sure of that. Savvy?"

She blinked back the tears. "Savvy. Captain."

"Good." He dropped his hands and walked back to his calculations. "Now. Has Anamaria been showing you how to man the helm?"

"Yes." He stared at her, tilting his head and dropping his shoulders in exasperation. "Oh." Her eyes widened for a moment. "Aye, Captain."

"Better." He took a scrap of paper and began writing on it. "If you want to be more than a passenger, you need to act it, and there's damn few onboard right now that I trust to steer the Pearl. Give me a few seconds and I'll have this for Ana…" his voice reduced to mumbled degrees and occasional softly jingling nods.

Elizabeth watched for a bit, but nervous curiosity drew her over to his desk, which housed an odd assortment of tools and souvenirs. A square of silk - blue, black and silver - was hung on the wall behind it; and two long peacock feathers were bobbing gently as the ship moved, their quills tucked between boards. She touched the iridescent eye of one and realized Jack was right behind her. She half expected him to pull rank, but when she saw his dark eyes, she realized he had focused on the feathers with a fond, distracted expression.

"They're beautiful, Jack. Where did you pick them up?"

The pirate pursed his lips thoughtfully and looked at Elizabeth, seemed to make a decision. "I've had them since I was no more than your age. From a lady. Pretty little thing."

"What was her name?" Jack was always so quiet about his actual past that she leapt at the opportunity to find something out.

"Aimee." He touched the feathers delicately, turned a slouched look at Elizabeth. "French. Odd people. They actually eat the birds."

Elizabeth, missing Will as much as she did, was sensitive to the emotion beneath Jack's bluster. "You loved her, then?"

The captain gave her a frown, shrugged. "Then. She didn't believe in piracy. Said every time I had a treasure in my hand, I'd use it up." He rolled a dark look her way. "To which I inevitably responded, 'isn't that the point, love'." He looked at the scrap of paper in his hand distractedly, frowned at the numbers. "'The sparrow is sorry for the peacock at the burden of his tail'".

"What?"

"A quote she used to throw at me. Among other things."

Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "She didn't think that you wanted the responsibility of keeping wealth?"

Sparrow grinned at the feathers once more, and then at Elizabeth before walking back to the table. "Of keeping something. The _Pearl _is the only burden I want."

Elizabeth had opened her mouth when Anamaria burst through the door. "Cap'n. I've been talking to some of the men, and I think it's sure."

"What's sure, love? And just who is steering my ship?"

She gave him a look. "Gibbs. Listen, Jack. If young Turner's father is the caged man, then we've got to make for that island before the other –"

"But Will –"

"Listen, miss. There be dark magic involved here. We'll need to free the caged man to bring it to an end."

"Wait. I thought you said that Mr. Turner is the caged man."

Ana looked at Jack in exasperation. "Is it the high breeding that makes 'em so hard-headed, then?"

Gibbs walked in behind her. "Did she tell you, Jack? What's our course?"

"She's trying. And who the hell is steering my ship now?"

"Cotton." The captain looked shocked. "He'll be fine, Jack, the parrot reads the wind better'n he does. You better listen to what she has to say."

Jack threw his hands in the air and sat heavily at the table. "I'm trying, man. It's a bit difficult at the moment."

Gibbs frowned and looked at Anamaria, whose eyes were practically spitting fire. "Well, tell him then. Who's keeping ye." He stepped back a bit, both to defer to her and to get out of hitting range.

"I'm telling ye, Jack. The island in his book has its share of dark magic. If they'd want to make Bootstrap a caged man, they'd actually make one. Small-like."

Jack frowned, his brows drawn over dark eyes. "You mean like those tribes that make the dolls, stick a piece of your hair on it and use it to cast spells on you?"

"Aye."

"And you have to get the doll to break the spell."

She nodded, her eyes anxiously bright. The captain watched her for a moment, and then stood once more, stepping closer to her to speak softly. "This 'caged man'. What does it mean? What's it doing to him?"

Ana put her hand to her forehead and whispered something under her breath.

"Ana…"

"She doesn't like to talk about it, Jack."

Jack turned the full force of his glare on Gibbs. "Then you tell me, Mr. Gibbs. What is this curse?"

Gibbs sighed, took a long pull from his flask. His voice was rough as he spoke with quiet intensity. "They cage you in with your own darkest thoughts. Whatever you believe is true, is true. And nothing under heaven can get in to convince you otherwise."

Jack gave him a puzzled frown. "So the curse – is whatever you believe it is?"

Gibbs nodded as he took another swig, his eyes wide.

"And William blames himself for his wife's death, and is trying to find someone to pay that debt – but he's not sure even that will work, that he won't lose his son in the process… that the boy's life won't be as desperate as his has been..." Jack dropped his head back with a soft jingle, staring up at the ceiling. "It's a hard one to believe."

The older man snorted a humorless laugh. "Surely you know, Jack. The worst curses are the ones we put on ourselves."


	8. By Any Other Name

Thanks, oh lovely readers and reviewers! And special thanks to the peafowl expert that led me to a great quote and a wonderful lead for a character I needed last chapter…

Picking up where we left off…

* * *

Elizabeth looked between Jack and Gibbs as they stared at each other. "We can't! We have to go to Muerta first and stop them!"

The two men turned to her, thoughtfully. Jack glanced at Ana, who shook her head once, slowly. Pursing his lips and sidling closer to the distraught Elizabeth, the pirate captain made an expressive little flourish with his hand as he spoke. "Listen, Lizzie-"

_Whap_. The slap rang loudly in the captain's quarters.

The girl's eyes were narrow as she spoke in a voice cold as ice. "You may get away with a lot, Jack Sparrow, but you will _not_ call me 'Lizzie'." Jack turned back to her, blinked a few times.

"Is that what happens to _anyone_ who calls you – I mean, surely Will has - "

"We can't go to any other island first! We have to get Father and Will away from - "

He shrugged as he spoke to Gibbs and Ana over her demands, distracted. "I mean, don't you think it just seems a little _severe_ for using what is essentially a term of endearment –"

"Jack, please!" Tears came to Elizabeth's eyes, and the pirate appeared to refocus on the conversation. He looked back at her, dropped his shoulders.

"Listen – Elizabeth. We have to go to Kraji first." She opened her mouth to protest but he stopped her with a raised finger. "If we don't get our hands on this little example of primitive artwork, we won't be able to clear William's head." He stepped closer still, his finger nearly touching her nose. "There's no way of knowing what he'll do, love. Do you really want to have the boy lose his father so very soon after finding him?"

She stopped, looked down and spoke quietly as he backed off a step. "Of course not. But my father…" Her eyes filled with tears again. "There's no way to save them both?"

The pirate turned to look at his crew, his hands raised at his sides. "Now, did anyone say that, love?" She frowned as he looked back to her, a mild grin on his face. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, and this is the _Black Pearl_. We can get to the island and still be at Muerta before they are." Gibbs made a little grunting noise, and they all turned to look at him. "What? We can beat anything that was floating in that harbor when we left."

"Yer asking for weather, making a claim like that, Jack. You know it's bad luck."

Jack made a derisive noise and turned back to the charts. "Nonsense. We've got clear skies all the way."

Gibbs shrank back toward the door, evidently expecting lightning to hit his reckless captain right there.

"I've got the bearing close enough on Isla De Muerta. Now, Ana." Sparrow leaned over the charts, moved a sheet and looked up at her. "Where are we headed?"

The beautiful, dark-skinned pirate looked uneasy, but stepped over to the table. She pointed a long, delicate finger which hovered over the charts for a moment before touching down. "Here." She waited only long enough for Jack to mark the spot before jerking her finger away as if it had been burned. "Gods protect us."

"Protect us from weather, say I." They turned to look at Gibbs. "Mark my words. You can't claim fair weather as a gift before you get it."

"Mark my words, mate." The captain noted their course and shook his head, not even looking up at Gibbs. "Clear sailing, all the way."

Ana and Gibbs exchanged a long, dark look as they headed back up on deck. Elizabeth stood there for a moment once they were alone, not sure what to think. Jack's voice broke through her reverie.

"So who was the horrible villain, then, who called you that?"

She glared at him for a moment, then looked at the floor. "Just a boy. I was eight, and after I'd gone to all the trouble of sneaking out, he wouldn't let me play with the other boys because I was a little girl." Anger flared in her eyes, until Jack looked up at her, mildly amused. Then she looked more penitent. "I used to like the name, until then. I'm sorry about...well. I'm just…"

"I know, love." He checked an angle on the charts. "But it will all work out. Mark my words."

* * *

It was two nights later that Elizabeth discovered just what seasickness really was. The water was so rough, the winds so high, that even with her sails furled the Pearl was lurching like a hyperactive toddler on a rocking horse. Elizabeth heard, over the noise of the wind, the captain call for the topsails to be secured. Again. _Damn_.

Elizabeth had been the one to tie them off. Lurching away from the rail of the ship, she began climbing, shakily, back up the foremast to do the job right. She had only just begun her ascent when she felt someone grab her leg. Looking down, she saw Gibbs sky-gray eyes looking up at her. He shouted over the gale. "Get below. I'll take it."

She shook her head and turned back to her climb, afraid that if she tried to speak she might lose what little food she had kept down. Gibbs grabbed her leg again, and she shook his hand off, giving him a dark look before she continued her climb. The older man stood watching as she made her way up, shook his head as the rain started again in earnest. Staggering against the fun-house deck as the Pearl swayed, he made his way back to the helm.

"She wouldn't have it, Jack. I told ye."

Jack nodded, trying to keep his ship from turning broadside to another wave. As it passed he relaxed marginally and spared a glance upwards, checking to see if his newest crewmember was hanging on. Sure enough, the girl was up there still. He shook his head and gold glinted in his smile.

"She's a brave one. I'll give her that."

"If she doesn't get herself killed."

Jack spoke to Gibbs without looking away from Elizabeth's high-wire act. "She'll be fine, mate –" At that moment lightning cracked the sky, and Elizabeth, startled, lost her grip. Both men jerked forward but Jack was quicker.

"Take the wheel!" Jack leapt forward, trusting that Gibbs would follow orders and keep the ship from getting swamped. His feet found their way on the slippery, shifting deck without his eyes guidance. To the casual observer, it looked like the typical dry land gait of Jack Sparrow – but in this context, it finally made sense. This man was always on rough seas.

Elizabeth, to her credit, didn't even scream when she began to fall. Clutching wildly in the storm she managed to grab the furled canvas that she had just tied off. Her fingers slipped on the wet fabric, the rope bindings burning across her wrist. Without quite knowing how, she managed to throw her leg over the crosstree and hung there panting like a jungle animal who'd been treed by an attack. The lightning flashed again, so close she was blinded by it. Closing her eyes and curling her head into her chest, Elizabeth hung on for dear life.

It was less than a minute later that she felt a hand grab her ankle. Her first fearful instinct was to shake it off, and she nearly dislodged herself from her precarious balance in the process. A voice called over the noise of the wind and rain.

"Elizabeth! Give me your hand." She opened her eyes and saw a dark shape clinging to the mast. Another series of lightning flashes and she saw a shaky, strobing image of her captain, water running from his hair as he reached out to her.

She wanted to move, to reach for him, but fear had clamped her muscles tight. Looking into his eyes in the flickering light, she shook her head.

"Come on, ye wench! I didn't climb up here in the wet to leave you hanging from my sails!" Jack watched as she struggled. Clearly her body, frozen with fear, was no longer accepting orders from her mind. He reached out as far as he could, not wanting to leave the strength of the mast. "Give me your hand. It's the only way down."

Elizabeth made the mistake of looking down just as the lightning showed her just how high she was – and also made it clear that if she fell at that moment, the ship was tilted so far off center that she would hit the rail, if not go overboard into the roiling sea. With a gasp her eyes widened.

It was nothing that Jack Sparrow hadn't seen before. Learning to ride the storm was part of any sailor's education; but up here it was a pass/fail class.

"Look at me!"

She shook her head, unable to tear her eyes away from the wildly teetering deck far below.

"Damn it, woman!" His referential yell got her attention this time, and he knew his course as she looked at him with suddenly narrowed eyes. Then the sail shifted in its bindings, and for a moment, he thought he'd lost her. Her eyes were wide once more when she looked at him.

"I can't, Jack."

"Yes you can, love. Just hold out your hand."

It took all her courage to admit what she yelled next. "I can't, Jack. I'm afraid."

The ship was leaning back toward him now. It was as good a time as any. "Come on, Lizzie! Don't act like a little girl."

Her head shot up as he spoke, her hand surging toward him the next instant. Gracefully he caught her by the wrist, pulling her to him as she lost her grip on the sail.

Ignoring her tearful gasps, he helped her as they edged down the mast, and pulled her into the shelter of his quarters as soon as they were on deck.

The change in noise level as he closed the door on the storm was almost deafening. Opening a wardrobe, he pulled out a clean shirt and a pair of loose pants. "You won't be the most well-dressed cabin boy, but you'll be dry for a while."

She smiled slightly and tried to pull herself together as she caught the clothes he tossed to her. Her eyes were downcast when she finally spoke. "Thank you. I- I'm sorry."

"For what, love? Anyone that close to a lightning strike is going to be shaken. You did well."

"I did? How?"

"You got the job done, and I didn't have to shoot you down. Savvy?" His smile grinned golden as he pulled out a shirt and dried his face with it. "I've lost more experienced men at a time like that."

Tilting his head suddenly, as if he were listening to his ship, he paused, nodded. "She's calming down. Why don't you take a break now. Have a cup of rum to warm your bones. Try to get some sleep."

She nodded limply, still standing with the clothes in her hand. He grinned again, knowing that she'd be fine once the shock wore off. "G'night, love." The pirate was stopped at the door by her voice.

"Jack?"

He turned and she was standing in front of him, hesitating only a moment before she hugged him. The captain, for all his usual poise, looked almost embarrassed as he patted her back awkwardly.

"Now what's all this, Elizabeth?"

"If you want," she sniffled quietly into his shoulder, "you can call me Lizzie."


	9. Telling Tales

Thanks to the faithful circle. I think I'm writing for five of us here… And yes, Victoria, there is a Santa Claus. This one's for you… or maybe not… bwahahaha…

I think I've finally cleared up all the mistyping in chap 8. Lord knows a writer should not post when ill… *sigh*…

* * *

Will coughed several times as he came up on deck. Scrubbing his hands through tangled hair, he walked blearily over to the rail, searching the water after yet another sleepless night. To starboard he could see the gray remains of a storm far off on the horizon, but it looked like the _Esperance_ would miss it entirely. He vaguely registered the sound of footsteps behind him.

"You won't be doing us any good in that state. Go below and get some sleep."

The boy lifted his head slowly and met his father's blue-green eyes. "I'm fine," he said defiantly. "And I won't sleep anyway." Even in those moments when Will thought he might doze off, it seemed his father was there droning over and over; about the curse, about his mother, about Swann. Sometimes he heard it now when his father wasn't even there. Sometimes all he could see was his mother's face, white as a lily, still as death. Sometimes he didn't know how much more he could take.

The captain of the commandeered _Esperance_, 'Bootstrap' to his makeshift crew, put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Look, son. You'll need your strength for when we reach the island."

"I'll need my strength?" Confusion ran through Will's expression. It seemed that he'd been able to keep his father in the dark about his real intentions, although he had the help of Governor Swann for that. He had told Elizabeth's father what he felt he could, even suggested that he take a dinghy and try to make shore. Swann had just looked at him and said 'I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure Elizabeth is safe'. He did agree to stay in his cabin, though. Will still couldn't believe the old man had it in him... But Bootstrap's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Aye. I know it's at the island that he has to die, but just how…" The older man shook his head and looked back to his son. "Does he still believe we're trying to help him find his daughter?"

Will nodded. The amount of deception he was trying to keep straight was making his head hurt, straining his overly tired mind. His father had no idea that Elizabeth was Swann's daughter. Will _had_ told him that the governor had a daughter, though, who was prone to running off. On the other hand, Governor Swann thought that there was help waiting at the Isla De Muerta, and that he was in no real danger because of that.

"Better then, that he keeps to his cabin. If I have to look at his face too much I'll do him in here on deck."

Adrenaline gave Will a startling burst of energy. "But you can't –" his father shot a dark look at him, and he backpedaled. "You can't - because of the curse. It must be at the island. Blood wants blood." Turner nodded in agreement as Will repeated the litany that he had told the boy a hundred times already.

"Aye. But he better keep to his cabin just the same." His father stalked off toward the helm, and Will felt himself sag. It was only a matter of time before he slipped somewhere, said something to the wrong person. Before he started believing the things he was repeating more and more frequently… shaking his head severely against that thought, he coughed again, rested his head in his hands, his elbows on the rail. The mumble was barely audible. "Damn it, Jack, where are you…" He had half expected the _Pearl_ to take them on at sea, and now he was beginning to wonder if they were coming at all…if Jack was willing to take that chance…if it mattered…

"Boy." The voice behind him made him turn with a start.

"Oh. Coltrane." Will tried to bring his unnerved senses back into line as he looked at the older crewman. "What is it?"

"Here." The older sailor handed him a cup. "It'll get that cough down. Last thing we need is the whole ship lookin' like you do."

Will glanced at it warily, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Not you I'm worried about, boy. It's the rest of us." He shook his head as Will grimaced and sniffed at the dark, slightly warm liquid. "Just quaff that off. Better to do it in one go."

"Why?"

The sarcasm in the sailor's tone was thick. "Because it tastes like medicine, boy. Just do it. Captain's orders."

Will glanced toward the helm and saw his father watching him. He stared for a moment as a flurry of unsettling thoughts ran through his brain, pasted a tight smile on his face, and raised the mug to his father in salute. "Cheers." He drank it down, starting a coughing fit as he nearly choked. The sailor laughed.

"There's a bit of rum in there. Thought you knew."

Gasping to catch his breath, Will stared into the empty cup. "And what else?"

"Plants and such. It's healthy enough, don't you worry. I haven't lost anyone to it yet."

"That's small comfort. Are you a doctor?"

"As close as you'll find on many a pirate ship. This is my own draught, it'll cure most anything."

Will felt his head floating as he tried to focus on Coltrane's face. "Really."

"Aye. You may want to have a bit of a lie down."

Will looked back toward his father suspiciously, his hand wobbling slightly as he pointed in that general direction. "Is it going to make me sleep?"

"It can't hurt."

"No." The younger man glared at his father again and turned to walk toward the stern with a swagger more suited to Jack Sparrow than a blacksmith. "No. I'll be fine."

* * *

Elizabeth stood at the rail, her hair blowing free and lit redly by a glorious post-storm sunset. The thought of Will made her sigh as she looked over at the island they had made anchor near. From this distance it was completely peaceful, lovely, green and lush.

"Are you sure I can't go along?"

"Not a good idea, miss. I'm thinkin' that Anamaria knows someone there, and Jack, well… he's Jack. There's no keeping him away."

Elizabeth nodded with some distraction. "I don't know what I could do, anyway. I just feel so useless right now." Gibbs dropped a hand on her shoulder and laughed.

"You've proved yourself a right sailor."

She smiled up at him, surprised but with a shy pride. "Thank you."

"It's the truth, Miss Swann."

The girl laughed and rolled her eyes. "I told you, Mr. Gibbs, that you could call me Elizabeth. Why is it that you pirates have such a hard time with proper names?"

"Ah, perhaps we're just used to hidin' the names we have."

"Perhaps." Elizabeth shook out her hair and pulled it back to a ponytail, tying it with a thin strip of leather. "Or perhaps you just like making things difficult."

"Difficult?"

She blinked at him, a teasing tone in her voice. "You know… breaking the rules. If you don't do as you're asked, then you're even _more_ of a pirate, yes?"

Gibbs appeared to consider for a moment. "You may be right, Miss Swann. But if that's the case, those in glass houses ought'nt throw stones, as it says in the good book."

"Mr. Gibbs! Are you suggesting that I –"

"Mr. Gibbs." Jack's voice broke over their disagreement. "We're off."

"Aye, Cap'n." He shot a smile at the girl as he walked away.

She smiled after him and turned to Jack.

"Will we make it in time?"

He looked at her, his dark eyes less confident than they had appeared before the storm. "Depends on what '_in time_' turns out to be." Seeing her expression change, he regretted his cavalier tone. "We'll do the best we can, love."

Elizabeth turned back to look out toward the island. "I hope that's enough." Abruptly her façade of calm dropped, and her shoulders began to shake. Jack exhaled as he looked at her, and put a gentle hand on her back.

"Listen, Lizzie. We'll just have to trust that your Will can keep his wits about him. Aye?"

She sniffed, once, straightened up. "Aye, Captain." Turning to look at him with tear-brightened eyes, she said, "Good luck."

He gave her a nod and walked away to meet Gibbs and Anamaria where they waited by the dinghy. Elizabeth took a deep, shuddery breath and followed behind to help lower them to the water.

Halfway between the _Pearl_ and Kraji, Jack spoke out. "So, Ana." The dark pirate looked up at him through long lashes, her head bowed. "Are you going to tell me just what the story is?"

Anamaria waved the back of her hand at him dismissively. Gibbs rested the oars as he looked between them, shook his head and took a swig from his flask.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, Captain."

Jack sighed and motioned for Gibbs to start rowing again. "Look, love. You know where the island is, and you were the one who steered us to this side of it. Seems clear enough to me."

Ana's eyes flashed at him, and Gibbs mumbled something under his breath as she answered. "It's a beach. Where else would ye have me anchor the _Pearl_?"

The captain lifted a long, elegant finger to point at her. "Yes, a beach that you just happened to know was here."

Exasperated, she rolled her eyes angrily. "Fine. I know the island. I been here before, is that enough of a confession for ye?"

Jack steepled his fingers together and stared at her. When he wanted to, Jack Sparrow could outstare a statue. "Well, if you don't want to tell me, I guess there's just Gibbs…"

"I'm telling nothing."

Jack nodded quietly, rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a small mirror. He began tapping it idly against the oar in Gibb's hand, pursing his lips to whistle.

Gibbs looked at him in abject panic. "No, Jack. Don't be makin' me tell the tale."

"Mr. Gibbs…"

"I'm tellin' ye, Jack, she only told me because she was drinkin'." He caught Ana's dark look and blustered on. "For all I know it was a load of nonsense. I mean, talk of her brother taking the chief's daughter, and the curse…" His eyes widened as Ana's lunged toward him in the small boat, stopped only by Jack's quick arm. "By the saints, woman. He forced me."

She shifted her attack to Jack, who caught her arm and twisted it behind her deftly, in a move he had surely used before to subdue his hot-tempered pilot.

"Now, love. Just tell us the tale, savvy?"

"Fine." She shook him loose angrily and gave Gibbs another dark glare. "It wasn't me brother. It was a shipmate… although he was more like a brother than any I ever had. We'd nearly run aground on this island in a storm, and once it blew over the captain sent us to get some wood and water. When we made shore, the chief came out of the jungle and said some nonsense words… but he managed to make it clear we were to follow."

"What did he say?"

"It wasn't so much what he was sayin' as the men with spears behind us."

"Ah. What happened?"

"They took us back to their village. And that's where the damn fool saw the chief's daughter, and insisted on takin' her with us." She touched her hand to her forehead. "It was only a month later that he started actin' strangely, and threw himself over the side in a storm." Her eyes were as sad as they were angry. "By then I'd learned a little of her talk, and she told me about the caged man."

"You took her back to her father?"

"No. She wouldn't have it. Once she'd had a taste of freedom from his orders, she wasn't going back."

Jack nodded, looking back toward the _Pearl_. "So there may be some trouble with him, then?"

Ana glanced nervously toward the shore. "Yer about to find out." Jack followed her look and saw a group of men wading out toward them; very tall, and armed with even longer spears.

"So it seems."


	10. Chief

Thank you, Peacockgirl! Indeed, if there _are_ only a few reading, their reviews are most supportive. I'm enjoying this tale myself, which I suppose is the literary equivalent of the cook enjoying the dinner. My dear Sphinx, I shall attempt to carry on in a manner acceptable to the production office. Thanks so much to all for reading - I can't tell you how nice it is to get reviews.

* * *

Jack trailed a few paces behind Gibbs and Ana as they were moved along the beach on Kraji. His head was down, and only someone who knew him well would have noticed the surreptitious glances he was giving the island and the men who surrounded them. Not looks in fear, but looks as if he were simply gathering information. Gibbs grunted at him.

"What's the idea?"

"Hmm?" The pirate let his eyes travel lazily to the other man's face.

"C'mon, Jack." Gibbs' expression became more annoyed than nervous as one of the warriors poked him none to gently with his spear. "Alright, ye lubber, I'm movin'." He looked back to the captain and hissed. "So?"

But Sparrow wasn't looking at him. With a sudden thoughtful frown he stopped, turned in place and focused on the view of a high mountain that dominated the western end of the island. A guard poked at him but he only smiled as he began walking again. "Mr. Gibbs," Jack drawled slowly. "Surely you know as well as anyone the importance of waiting for the opportune moment."

Anamaria, close enough to overhear, rolled her eyes. "Don't be doin' anything foolish, Jack Sparrow. Let me do the talkin' here."

His eyebrows raised. "Oh, most certainly, love. I wouldn't dream of usurping your authority in this matter." She shot him a daggered look, but he only blinked at her innocently. As she opened her mouth to speak, one of the guards barked an order at them, and Jack looked at Ana out of the corner of his eye. "Any idea what that meant?" He gave a smug little grin as her fists tightened.

"They want us to shut up. So be shuttin' up and don't get us killed before we can even find the damn' thing."

"Ah. Brilliant."

This time she refused to give him the satisfaction of a glare, and simple strode forward in silence, quickly enough that the guards had to pick up their pace to keep up with her. Jack gave her back a knowing little smile.

Within ten minutes they had reached a village of sorts, composed largely of concentric circles of grass and bamboo huts. Jack glanced in as he passed one hut, and a small child, no more than three, dashed out to stare at him. The pirate flashed a golden smile, but the little boy just watched until his mother, a look of horrified fear on her face, ran out to pull him back. Jack, whom children normally found very interesting to look at, was disturbed by the solemn reaction. He looked around the village and saw the same quiet fear in expressions half hidden by doorways, but no one else came outside to watch. Picking up his pace to walk a bit closer to his crew, he almost ran into Anamaria as they were stopped in front of a large, long hut. The guard ushered them in at spear point.

A large fire made the hall stuffy and warm even though there was an opening in the center of the thatched roof over it. An old man sat on a pile of rushes behind the fire pit, staring darkly at them as they approached. The head guard called something out in an unfamiliar, almost French-sounding language, and Jack saw Ana touch her hand to her forehead. With a small feeling of relief he noticed that at least she looked angry now.

The old man stared at them for a few minutes as if they were some new variety of cockroach. He finally spoke in the same strange tongue. Ana paused, strained under the burden of translation, and then responded in kind. Jack raised his eyebrows at Gibbs, who shrugged. "You understand?" Gibbs shook his head, and Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Ah."

Ana shot him a glare to shut up as the chief spoke again.

_"Why do you invade our land?"_

_"We do not invade. We come for a caged man."_

When she spoke the final words of the sentence, Jack noticed one or two guards stepped back nervously.

_"Why should I give you anything?"_ The elder spat into the fire. _"For all I know you help the dantilla."_ Ana frowned, waved her hand dismissively.

_"I know nothing of this dan-tilla,"_ she said, stuttering over the word. _"Our friend has been unjustly condemned. We claim…"_ she paused, trying to remember the words in this language, _"his freedom." _

The elder stared at her and laughed wickedly, showing brown and rotting teeth. _"And what do we get in return?"_

Anamaria stared at him for a long moment, glanced at Gibbs, looked back. _"I know where your daughter is."_

The chief struggled to his feet as anger surged through his expression. _"My daughter?"_ He spoke something so quickly that Ana just frowned and shook her head. Then he continued, panting, _ "__You. You were one of them that took her away."_

_"I was with them. I know where she is. I can give you a map."_

He stuttered in his rage, then gave her a calculating look. _"Give me the map first. Then if you can choose the caged man, you can take it."_

Jack, who had been observing the interchange quietly, swiftly stepped to Ana's side. "What's he want, love?"

"He says we must choose the caged man. I'm not knowin' what that means."

The pirate captain exhaled as he glanced at the chief. "Perhaps there's more than one of them?"

"Then how would we choose?"

Jack grinned, gold glinting in the firelight. "I think I can figure it out. Give him the map."

Ana rummaged in the folds of her belt and came out with a quartered sheet of paper, handed it to the chief, speaking in the strange dialect once more. "_She's in_ France."

He frowned at her. "Fr-ance?"

She took the paper back, drew in the mountain on the island to give him a direction. _"You see?"_

_"Yes."_ The chief grabbed a branch sticking out of the fire and motioned towards the dark shadows that lurked behind him. _"Look." _

In the light of the makeshift torch, they saw what looked like, at first glance, a spider-webbed bush of small twigs. As their eyes adjusted, it became obvious that it was actually a pile of tiny cages, each one holding a delicately carved figure, each one with an expression of deadly torment. Gibbs looked ill.

"By the saints. There's hundreds of 'em."

Ana turned to Jack. "And how are we supposed to know which one belongs to Bootstrap?"

Jack stepped over to the fire and took a stick himself. Coming closer to the pile, he handed the torch to Ana for light and began rummaging through the top layers of boxes. In two minutes he pulled one out. "I think this might do the trick."

His crew looked closer. "How can ye tell, Jack?"

The pirate rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Honestly." He held up the cage in the light. "Are you seeing anyone on this God-forsaken island who has hair this fine, and this light a color? Doesn't that shade of curl look a bit familiar?" Gibbs and Ana looked at each other, then around at the guards who still stayed close. Every one of them had black hair the color and texture of Anamaria's. Gibbs gave Jack a look of begrudging respect.

"Good on ye, Jack." He gave the guards another nervous glance. "We better be movin' on, then."

The captain nodded. "Excellent." With a graceful turn he took the torch from Ana and tossed it back into the fire pit. Nodding to the chief, he stepped with the others toward the opening of the hut door – and stopped as the guards came together to stop them. Jack's eyes widened. "Ana?"

The dark pirate turned and barked something at the chief, who snarled a laugh. _"I said you could have the caged man."_ He stepped closer, nearly spitting in her face. _"I never said you could leave with it."_

"Ana?" Jack was staring with narrowed eyes at their captor.

"Double-cross, Cap'n."

"Ah. I thought as much."

They were led out to a smaller hut, a life-sized version of the cages they had seen in the chief's chamber. Once they were ushered inside, a circle of guards surrounded them.

Jack doodled in the dust, whistling an odd little melody, and looked at the guards carefully. After a minute or two of that he stretched out on the ground and draped his arm over his eyes.

"Yer just givin' up then?" Gibbs stared at his captain in confusion.

The pirate's teeth grinned golden. "Waiting for the opportune moment, Mr. Gibbs. Wake me when they change the guard."

* * *

Back aboard the _Pearl_ Elizabeth was learning knots by lantern light from Mr. Cotton while trying not to worry. It wasn't working. "How long do you suppose we should wait?"

Cotton gave her a blank stare as he wrapped the rope over itself. The parrot squawked. "Pieces of eight." She frowned at it.

"And how am I supposed to know what that means?" Sagging a bit, she looked around the deck to see if anyone else was nearby to translate. There was no one. The crew had been giving her a lot of room this evening, presumably because they knew how worried she was. She sighed, a little deeper than she expected to, looked back at the jewel toned feathers. "I just want it to be over. For them to be safe. I mean, what if something happens to father?"

The parrot ruffled his feathers again. "Avast, ye scurvy dogs."

Elizabeth nodded. "And what if father's alright, but something happens to Will?" Her eyes teared up. "I don't know that I could bear that, I truly don't."

"Wind in the sails, wind in the sails."

"We haven't even been together that long. I just can't imagine life without him…" She rubbed her sleeve over her eyes. "I know Jack said not to be surprised if they're not back until morning, but it's so hard to wait."

"Polly want a cracker."

"I know. I just –" she stopped, stared at the bird. "What? What did you say?"

The parrot shook out its feathers and began preening itself. Elizabeth looked at Cotton.

"What did that mean?"

Cotton looked up from a particularly complicated Turk's head knot, cast his eyes between the girl and the bird and shrugged.

Elizabeth stood up abruptly. "Alright. It's gone too far when I find I'm deep in a conversation with a bird." She marched off to go below decks to get some food and find some human company. Cotton's parrot shook out its feathers again, looked over at Cotton and squawked.

"Shiver me timbers".

Cotton looked up from his knotting, glanced toward Elizabeth's retreating back, and nodded in silent agreement.

* * *

Gibbs nudged his captain with a boot as the sun was rising. "They're changin', Jack." The pirate went from sound asleep to wide awake in seconds. Nodding to Gibbs, he sat up and watched the new guard take their places. He noticed there were only three of them now.

Sitting closer to the bars, he began scratching a wavy line in the dust, whistling. One of the guards looked over at him and frowned. Over the wavy line, he drew a large circle, then an wide open V inside the circle. The guard came over curiously and stared at the picture, then looked nervously at the other two guards, who were not paying any attention but stood with the grim solidity of hired muscle everywhere. Jack smiled up at him in a friendly fashion.

The guard stared at him for a moment, then drew a wavy line, circle, and V very similar to Jack's doodling. Jack nodded. The man frowned at him until Jack pulled up his sleeve, showing a familiar tattoo. The guard gasped, then caught himself and squatted down near where Jack sat.

In a twisted pronunciation he whispered, "Spah-rowh?" Gibbs and Ana whipped their heads around to look as Jack nodded. Then the pirate whispered something in the strangely French dialect back at him. The only thing that Gibbs heard that sounded familiar was 'dantilla'. The guard nodded, glanced at his blissfully ignorant fellow soldiers and slipped quietly off into the jungle. Jack lay back with a smile, resting his head on his arms.

"And what in blazes was that about?" Gibbs whispered fiercely at him. "By the saints, Jack, you know these people?"

"And you know the language? Why were ye makin' me do all the talkin', then?"

Jack looked back and forth between them. "Now, now, miss Ana, there would hardly be any point in him knowing that _two_ of us understood his little double-cross."

"But how do they know ye?"

The pirate looked positively cheerful. "_Dantilla_. Rebels. That old man probably has more people against him than for him anymore. They live on the mountain… and when I was tossed overboard by the dogs that stole Ana's ship a few years back I came ashore on the mountain side of the island. They were already trying to overpower him then." Ana opened her mouth to speak but bit off her response. Jack favored her with a grin. "I learned something of their language, found out what was going on – and helped them stage a raid or two on the old man." Looking idly at his nails, he smiled, showing a bit more gold then usual. "And then they made me their chief."

"Their chief?"

"Aye. But I told them I must be off, but that I'd come back someday."

"So yer a legend, then, Jack Sparrow?"

He glanced up as a group of men edged out of the dense jungle, easily overpowering the other two guards and opening the cage while they bowed respectfully at the long haired pirate. Gold sparkled as Jack grinned.

"Was there ever any doubt, mate?"


	11. Esperance

Alright, alright, I see how it is. *sigh*. The problem is Jack, you know. He's hard to not write about. But I have duties, as ms kittie would point out…

* * *

Bootstrap Turner stood at the bow of the _Esperance_, breathing the salt air and feeling its cleansing mist. The only time he felt truly alive anymore was when he stood like this, just so, with a ship rising and falling beneath his feet. The hypnotic rhythm of the waves let his mind untangle, let him forget, and nothing seemed as urgent as it did when he attempted to think about what he was planning to do… or where they were going... or what came next.

He sighed as the surprisingly gentle mood ebbed away from him, elusive and welcome as a mermaid's smile. Turning to look amidships, he saw his son sitting on the deck leaning against the rail with his elbows on his knees, long dark waves of hair tangled into his hands. Something of his earlier mood seemed to stay with him as he walked over to the boy.

"Are you feeling alright, son?"

Will's head jerked up and he looked suspiciously at the older man. "I'm fine."

Staring at him for a moment, the older William opened his mouth to say something, then stopped as Governor Swann appeared from below. Bootstrap's expression turned dark but he controlled himself, nodding stiffly as he brushed past the man to return to the helm. Will spared the Governor a glance.

"I thought I told you to stay below."

Swann's eyebrows raised slightly. The boy, even low-born as he was, had never before been rude to him. "Surely you wouldn't begrudge me a little sunshine from time to time, Master Turner."

Will gave him a long look and shrugged, dropping his head back into his hands.

The Governor couldn't help noticing that the boy's pupils were dilated, his skin flushed with more than the sun and wind. "Are you well?"

"If people left me alone, I'd be fine."

"Perhaps you should get some rest-"

"I told you." He gave a small cough and pulled out a round, oiled leather flask that was on a cord around his neck. Opening it, he took a pull at it, winced, and closed it again. "I'm fine."

Swann frowned. "What's that?"

Will glared up at him again. "Coltrane gave it to me for my cough. Captain's orders." He followed the statement with a jerk of his head toward the helm, and Swann shook his head. Something was definitely going on with the boy.

"And what's in it?"

"I don't care. It helps the cough." He took another swig, staggered to his feet and moved unsteadily away from the Governor. "Don't stay where he can see you."

Something paternal stirred in Weatherby Swann. "Listen, Will –" But the boy just made a vague wave with his hand and staggered back towards the stern. Looking around, Swann took a deep breath and walked steadily over to where a tall, dark haired pirate was idly carving as he sat on a neat coil of rope. The governor waited for a moment, then cleared his throat. The sailor looked at him lazily.

"What."

"Mr. Coltrane?"

The pirate nodded, his eyes narrow. "And what would that be to you?" The governor folded his hands behind his back and smiled tightly.

"I'm a bit of a collector of odd recipes for health, Mr. Coltrane, and I'm curious as to what's in that elixir that you gave young Mr. Turner. He says it seems to be helping."

The man's expression brightened somewhat. "Ah. That's my best one, it is. Learned that one at my gran-dam's knee."

"Really?" The governor tried to look pleasant. "And what's it made of?"

"Well, she taught me all the old-time names. I get them from an apothecary in Tortuga, and he knows all of 'em by those names. I'm not sure you'd know them or not, not being trained in the art." Coltrane's expression was both proud and a bit smug.

Swann smiled again as visions of his botany and Latin tutor rolling his eyes whirled through his head. "Oh, I think I know a few of the 'old-time' names. Let's hear it."

Coltrane screwed up his face and looked skyward. "Well, there's rum, right enough. And honey, and lime to take the edge, you know."

"Yes, yes of course."

"And then there's _mentha__ piperita-"_

Swann blinked in surprise. He was expecting 'old woman's slipper', or 'devil's cherry'. "Your Gran knew the Latin names of herbs?"

"No, it's like I said, Gov. The old-time names. Some people know them by different ones now, but Gran said these were the medicine names." He paused, strained to think. "Let's see, where was I. Oh, yes._ Verbascum thapus_…"

Swann nodded quickly as he concentrated on understanding the man's over-strained Latin. Nothing odd there, peppermint and mullien. Common herbs for congestion.

"But what really makes it work, Gran said, was the _artemisia__ absinthium_, and _atropa__ belladonna_-"

"What?"

"I said _artemisia_–"

"Yes, yes, of course you did. What proportions did you use?"

"Don't know the proportions," Coltrane said, tripping over the word. "But I can tell you how much I put in. It'll clear up any infection a man has in him."

"But how much do you administer- how much do you have them take?"

"Oh, usually it don't take much. And since half the time you have to hold them down and pour it in, one dose does it. It's bitterer than betrayal, that stuff."

Two minutes later Governor Swann was approaching the helm. "Captain Turner. I must have a word with you."

"Passengers get below." Bootstrap growled at him without making eye contact.

Swann's expression was set. "It's about your son."

Turner swiveled to look at the other man. Something in the governor's expression must have made an impact, because the captain frowned. "What about him?"

"Mr. Coltrane gave him something for his cough –"

"Aye. I ordered that. Can't have the whole crew getting sick."

Swann sighed in exasperation. "You know he's been drinking it nonstop?"

The captain shrugged. "Honey, rum, lime… it's not going to hurt anything."

"But you know Mr. Coltrane puts certain medicinal herbs in it as well?"

"Aye, not surprised." The captain's face took on a more concerned cast, for all his casualness in answering.

Swann stepped closer, risking his life without really knowing it. "Captain. Are you familiar with wormwood? Or belladonna?"

* * *

Will Turner stood at the stern, fighting the fatigue and dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him. Resting his head on the rail, cradled in his arms, he felt the blanket of unconsciousness lowering over him once more. Shaking it off angrily, he blinked at the horizon, thought for a moment he saw a ship. Standing upright so quickly that he almost fell, he stared at the spot until the light glaring off the water nearly blinded him. He began to mumble under his breath. "Damn it, Jack. Damn you."

A nearly clear voice in his head whispered seductively.

_Perhaps __Elizabeth__'s run off with him after all. You know how she loves pirates…_

"No. She wouldn't… she…"

_Come now. You told her father that that was what happened…_

"Yes, but it was a story…"

_And why did it come to mind so quickly?_

"But… Elizabeth…she said she loves me."

_Yes, but who knows why anyone does anything anymore. And honestly, wouldn't they be here by now if they were coming? If they cared about what's happening to you?_

"But…"

_You're alone, Will Turner. Just like you've been ever since your mother died. No one else really cares. Or ever has. You're nothing more than a useful animal, nothing more than that donkey in the shop…_

"No…" He mumbled quietly to himself, rested his head for just a moment, closed out the world, the voices inside.

Unconsciousness hit him like a wave. The dream hit more softly, at first.

_Will stood outside a door, a strangely familiar door. It was far too tall, but he just frowned at it and opened the knob. Inside was a bed spread with a faded rose quilt. The woman who lay in it was breathing loudly, sounding to the boy like she was breathing underwater. He quietly stepped closer, and she saw him, attempted to smile._

_ "Hello, sweetheart." She gasped a few more breaths. "How's my little man today?"_

_ Her eyes were bright but fading, like a flower past its prime._

_ "I'm fine, mother. Are you getting better yet?"_

_ "Oh, no. I don't think the good Lord has that in mind for me."_

_ Will's eyes grew teary as he stared at her, and she patted the bed weakly. "Come sit by me a minute." He did, taking her hand that she stretched out to him. "You're a good man, Will Turner."_

_ "I'm just a boy." He stared at her hand, not wanting to look at the strangely faded face. _

_ "Oh, no." She gasped for a breath, coughed a few times, and closed her eyes. He stared at her and panicked. _

_ "Mother?"_

_ Her smile was soft but weak. "I'm still here, darling. But I don't know for how long."_

_ His face screwed up as he tried to keep back the tears. "I - I don't want you to go."_

_ "Now don't hold me back, Will Turner. There's the whole of Heaven for me to explore. And I'll find a nice place so that in a hundred years when you and your father come to visit, I'll have the place done up right." She smiled fondly at him, using all her remaining strength to appear strong for him. "You must do something for me, though."_

_ A single tear ran down his cheek and patted onto his hand. "What?"_

_ "When I'm gone, you must go and find your father, let him know I've gone on ahead. Tell him… well… Last I heard he was…" She stopped, coughed again. _

_ "Mother?"_

_ "A place called __Port Royal__. Can you remember that?"_

_ "__Port Royal__."__ His voice was shaking._

_ "Good lad. You take what's left in the jar in the kitchen and find a ship going that way."_

_ "But mother… I don't want to leave you." In spite of himself, tears began in earnest, and he rested his head on their clasped hands. She strained to put her other hand on his head. _

_ "I've told you a hundred times, Will, I won't be here." She ruffled his hair gently. "I'll be watching out for wherever you are. If you need me, remember I'm never far away." Taking another labored breath, Beatrice Turner seemed to sigh. "I love you, son."_

_ Will wept for a few minutes, then apprehensively lifted his head. _

_ His mother's eyes were closed, her face still set in a soft smile. Her skin, always fair, was like translucent porcelain. He whispered quietly. "Mother?" When there was no answer, he cried again, this time not knowing for how long. But he stopped, when he felt as if someone had ruffled his hair one more time. Looking around the room, he saw no one. Sniffling in a breath, he stood up and straightened the linens around her. "I'll be seeing you, Mother. I've just got to go find a ship."_

_ He walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind him, and saw his father standing in front of him. Will frowned. This wasn't what he remembered anymore. Then he noticed movement down the corridor. Walking slowly down the hall to join them was his mother. _

_ His eyes grew wide. "Mother?" Slowly she walked past a window, and as the bright moonlight hit her, she became a skeleton, shreds of her white nightclothes draping her like some mockery of a bridal gown. He jumped back. Behind his mother was __Elizabeth__, her hair in strings over the bones of her head. "What's going on?" His father turned and shook his head, which had become a tattered skull._

_ "You see, Will? Everyone. Every last one of us, cursed."_

Will screamed.

"It's all right, boy."

The eyes that opened may have looked like his wife's, but she never had the expression of wide-eyed terror that haunted his son's face. "Will?"

The boy looked around like a hunted animal, made a strangled cry, and closed his eyes again, collapsing back into the pillows. His father, horrified, put his ear to Will's chest and could hear his heart pounding. Without even thinking he turned to Governor Swann. "What do we do?"

Swann looked concerned, but shook his head. They had found the boy hunched over the stern rail, unconscious, and managed to get him into the captain's bed with the help of one of the crew. "I'm no doctor, Captain. Perhaps it would be best if he could rest. Just - wait it out, and don't let him take any more of that." He gestured toward the flask that the captain had taken away from the boy. "I don't get the impression he's been sleeping much." The two fathers nodded, joined momentarily by their concern for a child, no matter what his age. "I could stay with him for a few hours, if you like."

Bootstrap looked at the governor, and his expression changed abruptly. His eyes narrowed as he stared, dark thoughts blossoming in his mind. "No. He's my son. I'll stay by him."

Swann raised his eyebrows, but only said "Very well," as he left the room.

Once he had watched him leave, William Turner sat down by the bed and looked at his son. "You see? We can't let down our guard for a minute."


	12. Following Seas

Okay, now I'm just avoiding writing because I don't want it to end. This is the point in the process for me where I start thinking about the _next_ story in the series, instead of tying up this one. In a perverse kind of luck, I've not been sleeping well and that gave me time to figure out this chapter…

Continuing thanks to the readers, and multitudinous smooches to the reviewers. You make it all so much fun.

* * *

Jack stopped and looked up as he saw a familiar figure join the group of rebels that were taking them, by way of a circuitous route, through the jungle and back to their boat. The pirate's smile glinted in the early light as he stepped forward.

"Nihli?"

The man smiled back, and formally put his hand on Jack's shoulder in greeting as he spoke in a resonant bass voice.

"Jahk Spahrow. Welcome home." He nodded his head in a small bow.

Jack looked impressed, returning the gesture. "I thank you. And how did you come by English, my friend?"

Nihli laughed deep in his throat. "Tassa."

This time it was Ana who reacted, gasping as she looked up and saw her old friend walking out of the jungle behind him. "Tassa?" The two women laughed, throwing their arms around each other and talking quickly in the dialect of the island. After a moment of chatter, a small child no more than three pulled on Tassa's draped sarong and was promptly lifted up. Ana cooed over the girl and switched unconsciously to English.

"Tassa! Look at her! She's beautiful. Come here, darlin'…" With the easy confidence of the well-loved, the little girl stretched out her arms for Ana and giggled as she was cuddled. "And what's your name, little one?" The girl giggled again, but she was looking towards Jack, who was making faces at her behind Ana's back.

"We call her Simone." Tassa smiled, only a hint of sadness in her eyes as she looked fondly at her daughter. "After her father."

Ana nodded. "Ah, Simon'd like that. Yer father was a good man, little one."

Nihli looked around abruptly. "At least _her_ father was. We must keep on. They'll know you're gone soon." He looked pointedly at Jack, who was making Simone laugh by jingling his hair at her. The pirate gave him a sheepish look, which made the little girl laugh out loud, and the group began walking again. The conversation continued a bit more quietly.

"When did you come back?"

"We left England when Simone was a year. I realized my place was with the _dantilla_, and when I got here, I found that my brother had left home as well, and was leading them." She smiled over at Nihli. "I have a family again, someone for my daughter to learn from."

The tall rebel looked down at her solemnly. "Gods keep her from learning _anything_ from her grandfather." He spat on the ground and Jack raised his eyebrows cautiously. He stepped closer to Nihli as he spoke.

"The old man wasn't exactly hospitable with us. Things as bad as they were, then?"

"Worse. The people live in fear. We try to bring them over the mountain, to help them, but he holds them in terror. Until he's dead…" Tassa hissed something in the dialect of the island, and Nihli shook his head. "I won't end his life, Tassa."

Ana turned with an unladylike noise. "And why not? The man's a murderin' bastard."

Tassa glanced again at her brother, who strode proudly forward, not looking at them. "It would dishonor both myself and my family."

Gibbs nodded, shrugged. "Aye. And it's probably terrible bad luck."

Jack shook his head and grinned over at the older pirate before turning somewhat theatrically to his pilot. "Why Anamaria." His finger rested on his chin in thoughtful, mock surprise. "It dawns on me now, that you _lied_ to the good chief when you gave him that map to France."

Ana gave him a sardonic look. "Pirate." He broke into a smile at her tone. "Besides, they deserve each other."

The three pirates nodded in quiet agreement as they came to the beach. Ana gave Simone somewhat reluctantly back to her mother, hugging her goodbye. Three of the rebels waded out to pull their dinghy closer as Jack turned to Nihli once more. "Thank you, my friend. I must go –"

"But you'll be back someday. May the wind always follow you, Captain Spahrow."

"From your lips to God's ears, mate."

The pirate's teeth glinted in the sunlight as Gibbs rowed them back out toward the _Pearl_. After a moment the captain rested his hand on the sack hanging from his belt, and his expression grew more solemn. It changed to one of outright concern when he heard yells from his ship. He'd left Cotton in charge with a young crewman called Duncan as his second, not expecting any trouble. He was sure Duncan would be a fine sailor someday, once experience settled in. The pirate listened carefully, wondering what was going on.

"Raise anchor!" Duncan.

"Get the Captain aboard!" Ah. That would be Elizabeth's voice.

"Load cannons?" Duncan again.

"Dead men tell no tales!"

"It was just a thought."

Jack frowned as a rope snaked over the side and several heads appeared with it, but only one was looking down at the dinghy. The rest were staring back toward the island. Jack jerked around in time to see ten long canoes spear into the water like hungry barracuda.

"Ladder!"

Gibbs tied off the dinghy while Jack and Ana scrambled up the side of the ship, and followed quickly after. The wind had freshened as if to greet them, and the _Black Pearl_ was picking up speed already. For a few minutes it looked as if the spear-carrying warriors would overtake them, but Jack called for more canvas as he took the helm and the _Pearl_ easily pulled away, out into open seas.

Once they were safely under way, Jack turned a look at Cotton, his voice harsh. "Cannons. Against canoes?" Cotton turned to shrug at Duncan, who looked sheepish. The captain gave him a critical look. "A bit of overkill, lad, don't you think?"

"We weren't worried for the _Pearl_, Cap'n. I just thought we could fire across their bows if you needed time to get aboard." Jack relented slightly in the face of youthful exuberance.

"Fair enough."

Half an hour later they were in bright sunshine on following seas. The Pearl was gliding through the water with every bit of canvas hung, and Jack kept looking up as if to see if there was some stitch of sail that he could add somewhere. Elizabeth approached the helm quietly.

"Jack?"

He gave her a look. She rolled her eyes.

"Captain Sparrow?"

"Aye?"

"How long do you think it will take-"

He stopped her with a glance. "The _Pearl__'s_ doing the best she can, Lizzie. I'll keep her on track."

Elizabeth opened her mouth, closed it. He was right. They couldn't make any better time than they were now. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and said, "Aye, Captain." Turning away, she went to find Ana, to quiz her about charting their course.

They brought him food during the day, but Jack didn't leave the helm for more than a couple of minutes the entire time. Sunset found him still at the wheel, and Elizabeth stood near Ana as the dark pirate gave him the corrected bearings.

"Good, Ana. You better get below."

"Aye, Cap'n." She didn't move, though, and he glanced in her direction.

"What?"

"Can I be getting' you anything, Jack?"

He gave her a golden grin. "No, but thanks, love. You two get some sleep. Savvy?"

"Aye, Jack. G'night, then."

Elizabeth stared at her for a minute and then followed, confused. "Ana?"

"Aye?"

"Shouldn't someone else take a turn at the helm? I mean, he's been there all day, he must be exhaust-"

Ana rounded on her, a pointed finger extended at the girl's face. "Listen, missy. You don't tell the captain to take a nap. You make sure he knows you're there if he needs you. That's all."

"But why is he doing this?"

The woman sighed, looked at the earnest young face. "Don't ye know, Elizabeth, that no one can make the _Pearl_ move faster than Jack Sparrow? It's like he's pullin' her through the water himself." She glanced back toward the helm with a soft smile. "He's worried about the Turner's. So he's not trustin' her to anyone else."

"Oh." Elizabeth didn't know what to say. "Should we stay up, just in case he needs something?"

"He said sleep. That's the best we can do, so we're ready if need be. He knows where we are."

* * *

On board the _Esperance_, Will stirred in bed uneasily, then sat bolt upright with a gasp.

"Another nightmare, son?" Will frowned at the voice in the dark room. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the one candle that was burning at the table nearby.

"Father?"

He thought he heard a soft, resigned sigh, but wasn't sure. "Not yet, Master Turner."

"Oh. Sorry, sir, I thought –"

"Don't worry. Here, drink some water." Governor Swann stepped closer to the light to pour him a tankard, and Will blinked in sleepy surprise. The man wasn't wearing his coat or his wig, and looked like he had been dozing in the chair near the bed. As he brought Will the mug, he looked at him critically. "Your color's better."

"Thank you." Will yawned before he took a long drink, not realizing how thirsty he'd been. "Have you been here long, sir?"

"Well, I knew we were getting closer to the island when Captain Turner took the helm again. I thought someone should be in here." He took the empty mug. "More?"

"No, thanks." The boy frowned thoughtfully, his eyes blinking slowly. "And thank you for… well…"

"It's alright." Putting the mug back down on the table, the governor shrugged into his coat, although he left it unbuttoned. "I've not had to sit up with a sick child since Elizabeth broke her arm when she was twelve."

Will thought for a moment, then a grin brightened his face. "I remember. She told me she was galloping across the field, she jumped a fence, got caught by a tree branch, fell, and got kicked by a horse."

Swann looked at him and laughed. "Oh, did she." He leaned closer to the bed, lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I'll have you know that she broke that arm falling out of her bedroom window while trying to sneak out. Just because I told her she couldn't go and play with the boys that day." The governor squinted at him thoughtfully. "In fact, I think it was _you_ that she wanted to see that particular time."

Will looked shocked. "But – the second floor?"

"Indeed." Elizabeth's father gave him a calculating look. "I do hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

The boy blinked, shook his head. "I didn't know…" He yawned again, and the older man stood.

"Why don't you get some more sleep. I'll check in on you later." Nodding his farewell, he closed the door carefully behind him.

Will settled back into the bed again, blinked thoughtfully at the door, and closed his eyes.

In a few minutes he was sound asleep, and the murderous governor that haunted his dreams had no resemblance whatsoever to the man who had just left his room. By morning the visit felt like something he had imagined, and the dreams once more felt painfully, hideously real.


	13. La Muerta

I feel like I should apologize in advance… hmmm…

thanks to those who have stuck with me this far. I really do appreciate the feedback, I can't begin to tell you what a difference it makes.

Onward.

* * *

Will staggered out of his father's cabin, blinking painfully at the light of dawn, even filtered as it was through the thick morning mist. Off the port bow of the _Esperance_ was the jagged profile of the Isla De Muerta, veiled like a bride by the fog. He frowned as he looked down at the dew-slicked deck, pushed his hands back through his hair, and walked unsteadily toward the helm. His father turned as he approached.

"So you're up, then."

"Yes." Will blinked again, tried to focus on his father's face. It was harder than he expected it to be. "Have we been here long?"

Bootstrap looked back toward Muerta and seemed to shrug. "We anchored sometime after midnight."

"You could have woke me."

"You needed the rest."  
Will frowned behind the captain, wondering. Surely his father wasn't less anxious to go on than he had been. Not with all that was at stake. "Are you having second thoughts?" He watched as the back stiffened.

"Nothing has changed. You know what has to be done. You know what the legacy holds."

"Yes." Will's eyes narrowed as he tried to think. He knew for a certainty now that Swann had to die, he knew he had to be part of it, it was something in his blood. _The blood of a pirate…_ Just as he had been part of… frowning again, he looked off toward the stern, trying to remember something and not knowing what. For some reason, parts of his mind were crystal clear now – while other parts were as fogged as the rocky landscape of the island. In protection of his sanity, he clung to the points that were clear, even though they didn't stand up well to close inspection. "We were talking about mother last night, weren't we?"

"Aye. We talked while you were resting."

Something fluttered in Will's stomach. A memory surfaced briefly and then vanished, like a fish flashing its pale underbelly in the water. Some kind of dream – his mother was with him, smiling happily, but then she was in bed, dying, and Governor Swann was leaning over him and laughing … he shook his head. He was so _tired_. There were vague memories of being more asleep than awake, of vague conversations with someone who was watching over him… his father's voice telling him that he was the one who had to…agreeing that he would…it all made so much sense, in the night.

William Turner looked back toward his son. "Are you ready?"

If the sun had been shining brightly, if the sky had been clear, perhaps things would have been different. As it was, the boy nodded slowly, looking a little confused in the fog. "Give me a minute. Let me get my sword."

* * *

Onboard the _Black Pearl_, Captain Jack Sparrow spoke quietly in the morning fog. "Aye, Anamaria. Take the helm." The woman appeared like a ghost from behind him, slipping easily into his position as he extended a brass telescope. Putting it to his eye, he scanned ahead for a few minutes, then took the wheel again with an exasperated sigh. For the third time this morning his hand reached for an old, familiar compass at his belt that was no longer there. His expression tightened, and Ana stepped away, feeling his mood darken even further.

"Nothing, then?"

"Worse than nothing. I can't tell in this godforsaken fog just how close we are, and I can't make out any sign of the _Esperance, _not that she'd be calling out." He spared her a glance. "And Elizabeth?"

"She's awake. Should be up here soon." The woman shook her head. "Don't think she slept much after all, although I'm sure she was tryin' to look like she was."

Jack gave her a look from the corner of his dark-rimmed eyes. "Which means you slept even less, if you were watching her."

She shrugged dismissively. "I got enough."

He made a frustrated face and nodded. "Fine. See that she's distracted."

Ana gave him a grim smile. "I'll do what I can." They stood for a moment in silence, the creaking of the ship and the quiet indignation of the veiled sea as it was split by the _Pearl__'s _passage the only sounds.

"Cap'n?"

"Aye."

"D'ye really think…"

He glanced at her again, then up to the sluggish, fog-wet sails. "Dunno, love." He seemed to deflate a bit before he looked back at her and spoke again, trying to keep his tone light. "Not exactly sure how this is going to look in the legend."

"How?"

"Well, Captain Jack Sparrow _should_ be able to…" He trailed off, his lips tight, unable to keep up the pretense of humor. Ana laid a hand on his arm.

"Yer doin' yer best, Jack. No one can ask for more." He nodded in grim resignation. "And besides," she said, mimicking his lighter tone of a moment before with well practiced certainty. "If ye made it look _easy_, ye wouldn't be the _legendary_ Captain Jack Sparrow."

His eyes closed as he exhaled a small laugh. Turning to look at her once more, he gave her a quiet grin. "Ana – if you weren't already married -"

"Aye, an' it saves me the burden of turnin' ye down." She gave his arm a squeeze before she walked away. "I'll look in on Elizabeth. Give us the call when you've something to say."

"Aye." Turning his eyes back toward the bow, Jack Sparrow pulled his ship into the half-hearted wind. They must be getting closer… if he could only see more than a few lengths ahead of them. He found he was trying to clear the mists away by sheer willpower, and nearly laughed at himself. After all, how hard could it be, for a legend?

* * *

The Turners walked side by side towards Governor Swann's cabin door. Some impenetrably ingrained politeness made Will knock, and his father gave him an annoyed frown. The door opened before either could speak, though, and Weatherby Swann stood before them, dressed as he was the night Will first called him out of his library. The boy suppressed a sigh. It seemed so long ago.

William drew his sword. "Time to go." The Governor looked at him, then at Will.

"So the time has come, Master Turner?" His expression was calm, but his eyes seemed to beg the question. "And we'll be going alone?"

Will frowned at him, a memory from only a few days ago rising as if it were years old. He remembered telling the man that soldiers would be waiting when they reached la Muerta. Anything to get him where he had to be.

Something in his mind seemed to be screaming for attention. He blinked, rubbing his hand over his forehead. Nodding to Swann, Will drew his sword with a silken whisper, and stepped back to let him out of the room. "Let's go."

They made their way over the side and down the ladder, and Will sheathed his weapon and began rowing towards the sheltered cove of the island. His father sat in the bow, facing the Governor, his sword still drawn. Swann looked at him steadily.

"So, Captain Turner. You seem unnecessarily vigilant. Do you think the men who took my daughter are truly that dangerous –"

"We're not going to find anyone. You're here to get your just reward for your actions."

Swann frowned. "My actions? What actions are you speaking of?"

Turner said nothing. The boat ground onto the rocky shore, and they walked slowly into the huge dim cavern, lit only by beams of sunlight that pierced the darkness like blades. Gold sparkled in jumbled piles, a huge magpie's nest of shiny bits and pieces. The governor looked astonished.

"This is incredible. Who does it all belong to?"

"To who finds it. But we're not here to talk of treasure, Mr. Swann. We're here because you killed my wife, Beatrice Turner."

Swann frowned. "I've killed no one that I know of, and certainly not a woman –" He stopped, looked at Will. "This is about your mother, isn't it?"

The blacksmith frowned at him. A roaring in his ears was getting louder, more confusing. He looked at his father and tried to remember what he had been told – his mother – the legacy. Someone else would die if he didn't …someone important… but there was no one else. He was alone. _ He'd always been alone._ There was no one he could trust. Blood wants blood. He drew his sword once more, sharp as his words.

"Yes. And you'll pay for her death."

* * *

"Hard a' port!" Gibbs voice sounded the alarm in the fog. "Rocks!"

Jack had already begun the turn, unquestioning of the man's dependability. The ship stalled as it lost the wind and luffed to port, its momentum carrying it sideways far enough to bump the starboard hull roughly into the stone. The captain swore.

"Gibbs? How bad is she?"

There was no reply for a moment as Gibbs swung over the side and checked the hull. "I'm seeing nothing from out here. What about below?" Ana's voice called out from below decks, various curses as cargo was shifted muffled by distance and fog.

"Aye, Cap'n. She's good as gold."

Gibbs called back. "By the saints, yer pushin' yer luck, Jack. I told you it was bad luck, runnin' full in the fog that way. Dunno how you kept her that time."

"Ah, but she's fine, Mr. Gibbs. My luck can't be that bad." Jack grinned in his direction, but then leaned forward, stroking the wheel and whispering quietly. "Sorry, love."

"Cap'n!" Jack squinted toward the starboard as Gibbs came hurrying back toward him. "It's the island. We're here."

"Are ye sure?"

"Aye." The a brisk breeze teased the mist into fluttering veils, lifting slowly away from the deck. The older pirate swung around. "There!"

Jack peered into the clearing distance and saw, no more than a quarter mile away, the outline of another ship, rocking gently at anchor. His shoulders dropped. "Lower a boat." He glared hard, his expression fluctuating somewhere between relief and apprehension. "It's the _Esperance_."

* * *

"Your crime, Governor Swann, is the death of Beatrice Turner. And my son - _her_ son - will avenge her, to save his own bloodline from the legacy of this curse."

Swann turned to look at Will. He waited for a moment, expecting the young man to drop the charade… but there was something in the exhausted, haunted expression that worried him. "You believe there's a curse?" Slowly, Will nodded. "Then you would kill me, Master Turner?"

Will lifted his sword flashing into a shaft of light, and stepped closer. His shirt was soaked with sweat, and beads of perspiration ran down into his eyes, making him blink hard. "I'll do what I have to do."

Swann looked at the older pirate, horrified. "Gods, Turner. What have you done to him?"

* * *

Gibbs spoke quietly at Jack's side. "Who's goin' with ye, Cap'n?"

"No one. I'm going alone."

"Are ye sure? Ol' Bootstrap wasn't in his best senses when he left us."

"Exactly." Jack turned toward the dinghy and was stopped when he ran directly into Elizabeth. "Out o' my way, lass. I've got to move quickly."

"I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not."

"I say I am, Jack. I'll jump over and swim if I have to –"

"Elizabeth." Jack grabbed her shoulders and stared into her eyes, his seeming even darker than usual. He paused, shook his head. "I'm not sure we've got time for this."

"Which is why I'm –"

"Lizzie." He sighed, his exasperated expression softening slightly. "Do you really want to be there if I find out we're too late?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened and her face paled, her mouth a silent O of apprehension. Slowly she began breathing again, steadied herself.

"Yes. Yes, I do." She held back the tears fiercely. "You know I do."

He looked at her, took a deep breath, and said nothing. Abruptly he raised a finger in her face.

"Alright. But I go in first."

She nodded, and they made for the boat.


	14. Legacy

And off we go. Sorry the last one was short. This should make up for it.

* * *

Will Turner, blacksmith turned pirate and about to become murderer, stood beneath a vent in the stone of the cavern, the brightening light testifying to the lifting fog outside. Glints of gold showed in his tangled hair as he approached Governor Swann, the blade of his sword trembling slightly. Swann backed up nervously until he was flush against the wall. His voice was conspicuously unsteady as he tried reasoning.

"Listen, son, you can't really mean to-"

"Quiet!" Will grabbed his head as if he were afraid it might explode. "Just…. Be quiet." For a moment Swann looked almost as concerned for the boy as he was for himself.

"Captain Turner. Surely you can see that your boy isn't well…"

"Quiet, Swann. At least be a man about it. Face the consequences of your actions." The sound of coins toppling over, away from the light, made him stop.

"Be a man?" Three heads turned toward the dusky voice of Jack Sparrow as it purred through the cavern. "And I'm curious as to just what kind of a man does _this_, William Turner."

"Get out of here, Jack. This doesn't concern you."

Young Will frowned and blinked at the long haired pirate, his sword wavering slightly as his eyes narrowed. "…Jack?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow, here as promised. You can drop the charade." Sparrow started toward him in a businesslike fashion, but stopped when he heard the boy's next words.

"You. I trusted you once. You betrayed me."

Jack reeled back with an astonished frown. "What?"

The boy turned, took a few paces toward the pirate, staggering slightly. "You abandoned me, left me on my own. Just like everyone else."

The expression on the pirate's face was wavering between confusion and shock. "Listen, boy - we made as good time as the wind would allow. I'm here now. And so's your woman, for that matter, though I'm glad she's not seeing you like this." He leaned in to the lad, whispered conspiratorially. "You're not drunk, are you?"

The blacksmith shook his head violently, caught himself. "No." He turned to Bootstrap while pointing at the governor. "Father… I _have_ to kill him, don't I? Or mother will die?" The desperate, pleading tone of his voice echoed in the stone cave.

Even William looked shocked for a moment, his glance darting instinctively towards Jack. The pirate's dark eyes shifted to look at his old friend, with something near sympathy burning in their depths.

"Ah. So you've pulled him in with you, then."

"What're you saying, Jack?"

"William." Jack reached for the sack that hung from his belt without breaking eye contact. "Listen to me."

Will abruptly turned and pointed his sword at Swann's chest, the blade picking at threads in the fine silk brocade. "He's trying to trick you, father. You know we can't trust anyone – "

Suddenly a clear, sweet voice, welcome as a drink of cool water, interrupted him. "Will?"

The young man froze for a moment, frowned. Slowly he turned his head to see who had come in.

Elizabeth Swann stood next to Jack, staring in disbelief. "Will? What are you doing?" She tried to move forward but Jack held her back with an outstretched arm even as Swann cried out for him to stop her. Her eyes shifted fearfully. "Father? Are you alright?"

"_Father_? _She's _your daughter?" Bootstrap's rage battered at the hollows of the cavern. "The legacy! It's in the blood! They _both_ have to die." He looked back to his son, who was staring at Elizabeth intently, as if he were trying to remember something important.

Jack looked around and found, much to his chagrin, that the only other rational looking face in the group belonged to Weatherby Swann. He dropped his shoulders with a sigh. "Alright. What's in the boy's head, guv?"

Swann balked at the nickname and looked as discomfited by their sudden bond as Jack did. "Some fool on the ship was giving him rum for his cough laced with wormwood, belladonna, and God knows what else."

Jack rolled his eyes, his shoulders dropping. "Coltrane?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

"Poor bastard is lucky to be alive." He looked again at Will's waxen features as the boy stared silently at Elizabeth, who was staring back at him, too stunned to move. "But even that wouldn't… well…" He gestured vaguely.

"On top of that, this one," Swann pointed at the older Turner, his anger outweighing his fear at this point, "has been filling his head day and night with some nonsense about a curse. And he's not been sleeping."

Sparrow shifted back a half step, nodding. He'd seen it done to slaves and fighting men. He'd even seen it on Kraji. Keep them from getting sleep, keep telling them what you want them to believe, lace their drink with some brain-teasing herbs and pretty soon…

"Jack?" Elizabeth's quiet voice was quavering slightly. "What's wrong with him? Why doesn't he know me?"

Jack sighed. "At the moment, he's not quite himself, Lizzie."

She stared over at Will, pushed the pirate's arm up like a drawbridge and stepped under it toward him. Her voice was gentle. "But he is himself. He's Will Turner. And my husband."

"Fiancé," Swann corrected, quickly and rather automatically.

Elizabeth took another slow but steady step toward Will, staring into his eyes. "No ceremony could bind my heart closer to yours than it is now. I call you husband."

Will's eyes narrowed and then opened wide. He gave a frantic look around the cavern and back to her. "Elizabeth?" Tears came to her eyes as recognition finally showed in his expression.

"Yes-"

"Think carefully about your actions, lad." William's sword cut the air between them with a noise like paper tearing. "You know what has to be done! Blood wants blood."

Will looked in astonishment at his father, raised his sword for a moment, then dropped the point, shaking his head. "No, father. It's not true. None of it."

"He's right, William." Jack pulled the caged man out of the sack and held it at arm's length. "It's all a lie."

With a smooth movement, the pirate crumpled the cage in his hand, the dry twigs that formed it snapping with a sound like flames licking over green wood. When he opened his hand again, only the figure remained. He spoke quietly as he pulled the bit of hair from it, his eyes darkly thoughtful as the strands fluttered to the ground. "You're free, William."

William staggered back, frowning. "No. It can't… I can't… the legacy! Blood wants blood…" He lunged toward Swann, his sword outstretched, but Will deflected it easily, stepping between his father and his target. Automatically he dropped into a fighting stance, then paused and slowly stood upright. He looked over at Elizabeth, almost apologetically, then back to his father.

"No." Will tossed his sword down where it rang silver against the rocks, and stood undefended before his father. His voice, quietly controlled as it was, carried through the cave. "If you truly believe there must be blood, then let it be mine."

For several heartbeats there was nothing but silence, a frozen tableau where Will stared at his father who held the point of his blade menacingly close to the boy's chest. It slowly dropped away as Bootstrap blinked in confusion, his eyes registering something at last.

A familiar low voice rumbled warmly through the cave, seemed to dance in the shafts of light.

"_There's_ your legacy, William." Captain Jack Sparrow stepped easily over to the older Turner, taking his sword. "Your son is a good man. Like his father before him."

Bootstrap Bill, his eyes watering, took a step forward. "…Will?"

* * *

For some time there was nothing but confused conversation. Bootstrap remembered only marginally the things that had happened since he had become a caged man, and appeared shocked to see his son standing before him. Will, for his part, felt as if he had awakened from a nightmare. Once the events of the two ships had been recounted, the company eventually shifted into two clusters of light; Jack talking quietly to William in one, while some feet away Will stood before Governor Swann, his head bowed.

"I'm sorry. I - I don't know what else to say." Elizabeth took his hand, but he looked at her sadly. "I won't be surprised, Governor Swann, if you can't forgive me for what I nearly did. You should want to have me locked away, if not hung." He looked away from Elizabeth, his tone quiet. "I understand if you won't let me marry your daughter." His voice faltered as he finished, letting go of her hand, and he stared down at the gold spattered like tears on the floor of the cavern. Elizabeth looked at her father, shocked.

"Surely, Father, you wouldn't –"

"Elizabeth." Her father's tone, surprisingly firm, stopped her. "For once in your young life, trust my judgment, will you please?" Her mouth hung open in shock but she held her tongue, even as tears swam in her eyes. Governor Swann gave Will a calculating look. "You know, Master Turner, that you were not my first choice for my daughter."

Will nodded, a resigned frown darkening his features.

"However. I have known for some years now that Elizabeth has a mind of her own, a spirit of her own." Swann glanced at his daughter, a fond, remembering smile lighting his eyes. "She is so much like her mother." He shook his head, returned to the present. "I was fortunate to have such a woman make me _her_ first choice, and a woman's choice is all that truly matters. I pray that you never underestimate the honor."

Will lifted his head, his eyes wide. "Are you sure, Governor? After all this?"

Swann nodded and extended his hand, which Will took gladly. "You _will_ take good care of her? I can already see she's more than able to take care of you."

"I will." The blacksmith turned to Elizabeth, taking her hand once more, as she laughed with glad tears. "I promise."

Bootstrap stepped closer to the Governor, who watched him with some caution. "I apologize as well, your honor. I wasn't thinking straight…" Some years seemed to lean on the older Turner as he sighed. "But as I'm not marrying your daughter, I'm sure you'll be throwing away the key for me."

Swann glanced at Jack, whose dark eyes appeared to be trying to read his mind. He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by another voice, painfully smug in its delivery.

"Indeed, Mr. Turner. Piracy is still frowned on in these waters, as is kidnapping."

Jack Sparrow was the only one who didn't turn to see who it was. The pirate captain just looked down at the floor of the cavern and shook his head. "Y'know, my mum warned me there'd be days like this…"

"Commodore Norrington? What are you doing here?"

"Surely you didn't think that the British Navy would take the disappearance of a Governor sitting down." The commodore stepped closer to the group, his eyes flashing. "A fresh crew of pirates is fairly conspicuous, even in Port Royal. We just had to know who to ask to find out where it was bound." Norrington smiled viciously. "And my hope was to take two crews, once I saw who they were in league with."

Jack and Will looked at each other, eyes wide as they pictured the _Dauntless_ offshore where the _Pearl_ was waiting for them.

"Yes. We sighted the _Black Pearl_ on our approach, along with the ship that was stolen from Port Royal harbor." Norrington's eyes seemed to shift a bit uneasily. "Unfortunately they saw us and took flight. It seems your crew has a sharp eye for the law, Sparrow."

Jack nodded at Will with a gleaming smile, leaned over to whisper quietly. "I knew that."

"Indeed. We decided it was more important to recover the stolen ship." He collected himself briskly. "Are you alright, Governor?" The commodore looked at Swann, who seemed to be deciding something. Abruptly, the Governor walked toward him, his hands folded rather officiously behind his back.

"Forgive me if I'm merely confused, Commodore. You say a ship has been stolen?"

Norrington frowned. "Of course. The merchant ship _Esperance_. The ship that these pirates kidnapped you with."

The Governor put on a broad, rather theatrical frown. "Ah. I'm afraid _one_ of us is confused, Commodore Norrington. The _Esperance_ is _my_ ship."

"…Your ship?"

Jack looked at Will, impressed. "I _didn't_ know that."

"You are aware that I still own several merchant vessels, Commodore? The _Esperance_ was a recent purchase, but I assure you, is legally mine. Surely you aren't accusing me of stealing my own ship?"

"No, well, of course not, Governor. I knew you still owned… I didn't realize that particular ship…" Norrington blustered a bit, sniffed, and straightened up. "That leaves only the charge of kidnapping, then-"

"Honestly, Commodore. How could I have been kidnapped on my own ship?" Will and his father looked stunned, while Jack grinned broadly.

"But – why would you – you didn't leave word -"

"Commodore. There comes a time in a man's life when he needs a bit of adventure. Perhaps his children are grown, and don't need him anymore." Elizabeth's eyes filled, and the governor smiled at her. "At least, not _quite_ as much as they once did."

A dark voice purred. "Ah, you'd be amazed, guv."

Swann gave Jack a wry look. "In any case, I took it into my head to see this island that Elizabeth had spoken so much of, and since the wind was right, off we went."

"But, sir-" The commodore stopped, looked around the cave. His eyes traveled back to the governor's, and something seemed to click. "I see. Well, then. No harm done, except for worrying us all. I imagine you don't intend to press charges?"

"No reason to, is there?" The commodore and the governor looked at each other for a long moment. If it were a contest, the governor won.

Sparrow leaned toward where Will and Elizabeth stood, wrapped in each other's arms. "I could learn to love this man."

Norrington nodded and turned away. "And since you're on an outing, I assume there's no reason for the _Dauntless_ to stay?"

"Heavens, no. I've not had the entire tour yet. Please extend my apologies to your crew for any inconvenience."

Norrington gave the three men who stood to the side with Elizabeth a look. "I'm relieved that it was nothing more than a misunderstanding." With a nod to the governor, and a slightly more gracious bow to his daughter, the Commodore left.

Elizabeth threw her arms around her father almost before Norrington was gone. "Thank you!"

"Anyone who could father a sailor like her can't be all bad. Thank you, guv."

Weatherby Swann stared at the captain of the _Pearl_, an interesting look in his eye. "Well, Captain Sparrow. Just don't be surprised if I need a favor in return someday."

Jack narrowed his eyes, but shrugged expressively as he looked at the newly freed Turners. "It's yours for the asking, mate.

"Good." They stared at each other for a moment, then Jack looked at Will and Elizabeth.

"So, Lizzie. Shall we be off, then?"

"Lizzie?" Will frowned at her curiously.

"Long story."

"I assume you'll be asking passage, Will, unless you really want to spend more time away from the girl."

Will glanced at his father, who grinned. "Go, lad. We'll catch up at Port Royal."

"A word, Captain Turner." The governor and Bootstrap went off to a corner, and a quiet conversation took place. Bootstrap looked shocked, and then smiled, a light shining in his face that Jack hadn't seen in years. The two men shook hands and returned to the threesome. "Captain Turner will be sailing the _Esperance_ back for me. And if all goes well, for some time after that."

Jack smiled with a golden glint. "Well, congratulations, William. We'll shorten sails so you can keep up." Bootstrap laughed, shaking Jack's hand.

"Aye, Jack. If she's still mine in six months, we'll see if you still have to shorten sails - once I make some adjustments."

There was some surprise when the Governor took the dinghy with Captain Turner, having decided to stay with the _Esperance_ back to Port Royal. He gracefully ignored his daughter's delighted look when he didn't ask her to join him, but let her stay unquestioned on the pirate ship with her fiancé.

The two boats made their way out of the cove, the surprisingly bright midday sun after the dim cavern making it seem like they had emerged from a dream. Jack hummed cheerfully under his breath as he rowed toward the _Pearl__,_ who had returned from her hiding place around the island. Will watched him for a minute. "Jack?"

"Aye?"

"I don't believe I thanked you yet."

The pirate waved his hand dismissively.

Will chuckled. "Well. Thank you." Elizabeth leaned forward, kissed the pirate lightly on the cheek.

"Yes. Thank you, _Captain_."

Jack shrugged, but a bit of gold sparkled. "All in a day's work, love."


	15. Epilogue

Once again, thank you so much to the readers, and especially the reviewers – to Peacockgirl, Ping*pong5, Piper, Innuendogirl, Pinkyiolis, Kittee, Bee, Sphinx, Cyrin, Allyrein, and all the other kind people who have stopped by to check out this little tale. My final request is that if you have read the whole thing, please give me an 'exit review', and let me know what you thought. (and if you have the time check out some of my other stories! )

I love this place.

And now, an Epilogue.

* * *

Late in the evening of their first day out from Muerta, the _Esperance_ and the _Black Pearl_ found themselves in a bit of a lull. The _Pearl_ could have crept on with more canvas, but since the night was warm and the air was sweet, they dropped anchor near some shoals instead, gathering the company onto one ship for supper.

The huge mahogany table in Jack's cabin was laden with every delicacy the ship had tucked away. Seven people were seated around it, and the wine that Governor Swann had liberated from the _Esperance_ stores was flowing just as freely as the conversation. They had dressed for the occasion - Elizabeth in a rare gown of green silk that had suspiciously appeared in Ana's cabin - and even Gibbs looked positively dapper.

The captain of the _Pearl_ stood when the meal was over, a silver goblet in his hand. "First, to Governor Swann. Long may he reign." They drank among cries of _'hear hear'_, and Swann nodded his acknowledgement with a small embarrassed grin. "To Captain William of the _Esperance_, may the wind keep to her back," was also followed by congratulatory cheers. Jack then turned slightly, overshooting only a little before nodding back to target. "And of course, to Will and Lizzie. Let's hope they stay out of trouble for a good while." Good natured laughter and bell-like clinking followed. When Jack sat again, Governor Swann suddenly frowned.

"Captain Sparrow. On that subject, I trust that you can provide proper quarters for the _two_ of them?" Elizabeth blushed while Will looked with sudden fascination into his wine, trying not to smile.

"Father! Honestly."

Jack shrugged. "To tell you the truth, guv, I expected to show 'em later, but let's have a look." He stood, motioning for Will and Elizabeth to follow. They looked at Jack and each other curiously, and stood to follow him. Gibbs glanced at Ana, who was smiling with sly delight as they left the cabin.

"Did ye finish, then?"

"Aye. It's better'n new. And it turns out Duncan's a dab hand with a needle."

Governor Swann looked puzzled. "And what would be finished?"

"Well, yer honor, y'see, Jack had closed off the first mate's cabin when he got the _Pearl_ back. The thought of Barbossa havin' plotted there was still stuck in 'is craw."

"I see. Didn't Barbossa use it for his first mate when he was captain?"

"Ah, ye see ol' Barbossa didn't have much faith in keeping a first mate, if ye get my drift. Somehow he knew it would be terrible bad luck for 'im."

"Ah. Yes, of course." Weatherby shot a look at William, who laughed quietly. Gibbs had a way with a story, if you could follow his language. "I take it that Captain Sparrow is giving that room to Master Turner, then?"

"Well, there's room for Will 'n Lizzie both, I'd imagine." Ana glared at Gibbs, whose eyes widened as he choked on his wine. "I mean, ah –" Governor Swann was out the door before Gibbs could finish his stuttered explanation.

"Well, now you've done 'em in, ye old fool."

"It's not my fault, woman." He lifted the wine and refilled his goblet. "He knows I can't hold me wine. 'E should've served rum."

"Oh, as if you're needin' any excuse for actin' the fool –"

"Friends." Bootstrap lifted a hand and they stopped, looking a bit sheepish. "I'm sure it will work out." He looked toward the door with an amused smile, remembering the quiet chat he'd had with Will when they came aboard. "I'm sure."

"Oh, Jack, it's lovely!" Elizabeth pulled away from Will's arm as she swept into the room. The first mate's cabin was the deck below the captain's at the stern. It was certainly smaller than Jack's, but at the same time, it had nearly a full wall of the thick glass windows. The woodwork had been cleaned and polished, the bed laid with a thick burgundy quilt that matched the heavy drapes. A smaller table was bolted down off to one side, while built in cupboards and a desk were across from them. "It looks so… cozy!"

Will and Jack exchanged a resigned, male look. "Don't blame me. I left it to Anamaria." The captain looked around the carefully arranged room, shook his head. "Didn't think she had it in her."

"It's perfect, Jack." Will smiled at Elizabeth's delighted exploration of the cabin. "Perfect. But there's something I needed to ask you." Jack slapped the younger man on the back as Governor Swann swept into the room.

"Captain. Certainly you're not suggesting that Elizabeth share a room with –"

"Now, guv, I'm not suggesting anything. I'm showing them the room, savvy? What they do with it –"

"I must protest!"

"Father, please! It's not as if-"

"Jack-"

"Hey!"

Captain Sparrow raised his arms and looked at them all with such shocked indignation that they all stopped talking at once. He swept them with a regal glare, then cleared his throat, adjusting his shirt with careful, seemingly inebriated distraction. "Alright, then. Clearly you two - or three, for that matter - have things to discuss." He turned to leave the room.

"Jack, wait-" The pirate continued his pirouette and came to face Will once more.

"What is it, lad." He held up a finger. "Ah, yes, as I recall you had a question. Question away."

"How far are we from Port Royal?"

"How far? A couple days if the wind picks up." Jack frowned in sincere puzzlement. The boy looked positively nervous, and he had seen the lad solid as a rock in situations that would make a hardened pirate shake in his boots. He tilted his head toward him. "Are you in a hurry?"

A faint flush lit the boy's face as he looked over at Elizabeth, then stepped over to take her hand, putting his other arm around her shoulder. "If it's alright with you, Elizabeth," he looked back to Jack, took a deep breath. "I was wondering, Captain Sparrow, if you could marry us." He gulped, his eyes darting briefly over to his future father-in-law and back to Jack.

The smile that crept onto Jack's face would have made the Cheshire cat proud.

Governor Swann, however, looked less pleased. "Oh, Elizabeth, I must say-"

"Father." She looked at him sternly, and he stopped, shook his head.

"So this is how it's going to be, then?"

After smiling at Will, she walked over to her father, put her arm around him as she spoke softly, smiling hopefully at him. "Please, father. It would make me so happy…"

An hour later the dinner party stood solemnly on the deck under the stars, a few shreds of cloud fluttering like veils across the midnight sky. A light breeze rippled the water, carrying the scent of flowers from far away.

Gibbs could be heard pontificating to Ana. "Good thing it's not a full moon, then. Terrible luck to be married under a full moon." Elizabeth turned with a surprisingly concerned expression on her face from where she stood with her father, ready to be given away.

"And what is a good moon to be married under, Mr. Gibbs?" The older pirate looked at her hopeful young face and saw Jack shoot a glance his way. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and sighed as he looked up at the sky.

"Well, I'd say…" the clouds moved aside, leaving a half moon shining down on the ship. "I'd say yer a lucky lass, Miss Elizabeth. That's the best moon of all to be wed under." She looked up at the sky with a bright smile as her father and the captain nodded thankfully.

After she had been presented by her father, accompanied by the lilting melody of a concertina, the Captain lifted his chin and looked them over critically.

"Lizzie, Will. You know what you're getting into, yes?"

The couple smiled broadly, and looked into each other's eyes. "We do." Governor Swann smiled but shook his head.

"It's not easy, you know. Of course, you've been through a bit together already."

They looked back at him, nodding solemnly.

"Well then. If you're willing to give it a try, then no one's to say you shouldn't." He leaned in toward the groom. "You have a ring?"

Will looked panicked. "Oh… I-"

A deep chuckle from behind made Will turn. "Here, son. I was having it fixed for your mother." William Turner looked at Elizabeth and smiled fondly. "I'm sure she'd be pleased for you to have it, Elizabeth." Her eyes watered as she looked up at William, and she nodded her thanks, speechless, as Will slipped the ring on her finger - a plain band of gold with a tiny edging like the twist of rope.

"But I don't-" Elizabeth stopped as the governor sighed, reached into his pocket and took out a ring. It was a bit worn, but still a handsome man's band. He looked at it fondly.

"Your mother believed in two rings as well. I can't see why she would mind if it stayed in the family." Elizabeth took the ring from her father as a tear spilled down her cheek, and placed it carefully on Will's hand. They looked at each other, and their smiles bubbled over into joyful laughter.

"As Captain of the _Black Pearl_, I say you're married." He swayed slightly as he pointed his finger around the deck and smiled, gold glinting in the moonlight. "Anyone who disagrees will have to answer to me, savvy?"

* * *

Deep in the night, the wind freshened, and the two ships that had been floating peacefully in the warm seas raised anchor. The merchant ship followed the pirate vessel away from the shoals and out into the glimmering open seas.

At the bow of the _Black Pearl_, a couple stood locked in a tender embrace, until the captain's voice rang out in the darkness.

"Aye. Get below or man the topsails. Your choice, Lizzie."

The couple vanished with subdued giggling, and Captain Jack Sparrow finally had the night and his ship to himself once more. He took a deep breath of the gentle air and began to sing softly.

"hm hm hmmm… and really bad eggs… Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!"

* * *

BLACKOUT


End file.
